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MORE 

MAGIC  PICTURES 
>F  THE  LONG  AGO 


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CURTIS  CHANDLER, 


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LIBRA* 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

FAIRY  TALES 
By  James  Shannon 

Just  as  the  little  brown  people  of  Egypt  in  the  Time  of  Long  Ago,  and  the  children 
of  sunny  Greece;  and  just  as  the  boys  and  girls  who  lived  in  the  time  of  brave 
knights  liked  to  hear  stories,— so  do  you  and  I!  These  little  girls  can  hardly  wait 
to  hear  how  the  story  is  coming  out!  [Page  151.] 


BHJfc 


MORE 

MAGIC    PICTURES    OF   THE 
LONG   AGO 

STORIES  OF  THE  PEOPLE  OF  MANY 
LANDS 

BY 
ANNA  CURTIS  CHANDLER 


WITH  REPRODUCTIONS  FROM  WORKS  OP  ART  AND 
OLD  MANUSCRIPTS 


NEW  YORK 
HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

1920 


COPYRIGHT,  1920 

BY 
HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


couc. 

LIBRARY 


TO 

THE  REVEREND  AND  MRS.  CHARLES  ASA  MERRILL 

IN  WHOSE  HOME  AND  CHURCH 
I  FIRST  PLAYED  THE  PART  OF  STORYTELLER 


J 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A  Great  Egyptian  Queen,  Hatshepsut;  A  Story  of  Egypt. ...  5 
In  the  Land  of  the  Minotaur;  A  Story  of  Greece  and  the  Is- 
lands of  the  ^Egean  Sea 21 

A  Story  from  Colored  Glass,  or,  Justinian  and  Theodora;  A 

Story  of  Constantinople 37 

The  Tale  of  a  Great  Crusade;  A  Story  of  France 53 

A  Buddha  Story,  or,  The  Tale  of  a  Wonderful  Prince;  A  Story 

of  India ' 72 

An  Early  Painter,  Giotto;  A  Story  of  Italy 87 

A  Great  Sculptor,  Michelangelo;  A  Story  of  Italy 103 

At  the  Court  of  Philip  IV;  A  Story  of  Spain 121 

The  Picture  Children's  Party;  A  Story  of  Many  Lands 139 

In  the  Time  of  Paul  Revere;  A  Story  of  America 157 

About  Story  Hours 173 


vii 


The  author  is  grateful  to  Mr.  Henry  W.  Kent;  to  Mr.  William 
Clifford,  Librarian  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art,  who  has 
been  of  assistance  in  looking  up  material;  to  Miss  C.  Louise  A  very, 
Miss  Helen  Patten,  and  Miss  Bessie  D.  Davis  for  their  sugges- 
tions and  encouragement;  and  to  Professor  Halliday  of  Columbia 
University  for  his  help  in  public  speaking. 

Acknowledgment  is  due  the  Towle  Manufacturing  Company 
for  permission  to  use  the  Paul  Revere  engraving  of  the  Boston 
Massacre;  to  the  Detroit  Publishing  Company  for  consent  to 
reproduce  the  Reid  pictures  of  Paul  Revere's  Ride  and  the  Boston 
Tea-party;  to  the  Essex  Institute  for  permission  to  reproduce 
the  Institute  bedroom;  to  the  Jacobs  Publishing  Company  for 
permission  to  use  the  little  Colonial  figures  at  the  end;  and  to 
the  authors  of  the  various  books  which  have  been  helpful  in 
writing  and  adapting  the  stories. 


vm 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Fairy  Tales.    By  James  Shannon Frontispiece 

[The  Picture  Children's  Party,  p.  139] 

PAGE 

Dancing  Figures.     From  an  Egyptian  Tomb 1 

Temple  of  Queen  Hatshepsut.    15th  Century  B.  C 6 

An  Egyptian  Boat.    From  a  Relief  in  the  Temple  of  Queen 

Hatshepsut 12 

Loading  Egyptian  Boats  in  Punt.    15th  Century  B.  C 15 

Chiefs  of  Punt  Arriving  Before  the  Egyptian  Ruler 17 

Head  of  Amon.    15th  Century  B.  C 18 

Cat  Hunting  a  Pheasant.     From  a  Late  Minoan  Wall  Painting  23 

A  Cup  Bearer.     From  a  Late  Minoan  Wall  Painting 25 

Scene  from  a  Minoan  Circus.    From  a  Wall  Painting 33 

Flying  Fish.    From  a  Late  Minoan  Wall  Painting 35 

Theodora  and  Her  Attendants.    Byzantine  Mosaic 39 

Justinian  and  His  Attendants.    Byzantine  Mosaic 42 

Interior  of  the  Church  of  Sancta  Sophia,  Constantinople ....  47 

Church  of  Sancta  Sophia,  Constantinople 50 

Ivory  Leaves  of  the  Consular  Diptych  of  Justinian 51 

Blanche  of  Castile  presiding  over  the  Education  of  St.  Louis. 

By  A.  Cabanel 57 

The  Crusaders  Landing  at  Damietta,  Egypt 60 

ix 


x  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

k 

PAGE 

Messengers  of  the  Sultan.    From  a  13th  Century  Miniature .  62 

St.  Louis  and  his  Two  Brothers  Made  Prisoners  by  the  Saracens  63 

Ivory  Chessman.    French  13th  Century 67 

Crusade  of  St.  Louis.    French  Parchment,  16th  Century ....  70 

Fighting  Elephants.    Miniature  from  an  Indian  Manuscript.  73 

Head  of  Buddha.    Indian  Sculpture,  9th  Century 76 

Hunting  Scene.    Miniature  from  an  Indian  Manuscript 80 

Illustration  of  an  Indo-Persian  Poem,  17th  Century 83 

Altarpiece.    By  a  Sienese  Artist,  15th  Century 88 

The  Visit  of  the  Magi.    By  the  School  of  Giotto 96 

St.  Christopher.    By  Pollaiuolo 98 

St.  Francis  Preaching  to  the  Birds 100 

Michelangelo 105 

Mask  of  a  Laughing  Faun 110 

Statue  of  David.    By  Michelangelo 114 

Ceiling  of  the  Sistine  Chapel  in  the  Vatican,  Rome.     By 
Michelangelo 116 

Athletic  Figure  from  Sistine  Chapel  Ceiling.    By  Michelangelo  118 

Philip  IV,  King  of  Spain.    By  Velasquez '.  . .  .    122 

Mariana  of  Austria.    By  the  School  of  Velasquez 124 

Don  Balthazar  Carlos.    By  the  School  of  Velasquez 126 

The  Maids  of  Honor.    By  Velasquez 130 

Knight  on  Horseback.    A  Relief  by  a  Spanish  Sculptor,  13th 
Century : 133 

The  Boy  with  a  Sword.    By  Edouard  Manet 141 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xi 

. 

PAGE 

The  Earl  of  Arundel  and  his  Grandson.    By  Sir  Anthony  Van 
Dyck 144 

Georgiana  Augusta  Frederica  Elliott.    By  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  151 

The  Court  of  a  Dutch  House.    By  Pieter  de  Hooch 153 

In  the  Garden.    By  George  De  Forest  Brush 155 

The  Boston  Tea  Party.    By  Reid 160 

The  Boston  Massacre     From  an  Engraving  by  Paul  Revere. .  162 

Bedroom  in  Essex  Institute,  Salem,  Mass 166 

Paul  Revere's  Ride.    By  Reid 168 

Little  Colonial  Children.    Tailpiece 176 

An  Egyptian  Ship.    Cover  Design. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Arnold,  Sir  Edwin: 

Light  of  Asia. 
Baikie,  James: 

The  Sea  Kings  of  Crete. 
Breasted,  James  Henry: 

a.  Ancient  Records  of  Egypt. 

b.  A  History  of  the  Ancient  Egyptians. 

Buttles,  Janet  R. :  With  a  preface  by  Professor  G.  Maspero. 
The  Queens  of  Egypt. 

Canton,  William: 

A  Child's  Book  of  Warriors. 

Elliot,  Frances  Minto: 

Old  Court  Life  in  Spain. 

Hind,  C.  Lewis: 

Days  with  Velasquez. 

Holland,  RupertS.: 

Historic  Heroes  of  Chivalry. 

Holroyd,  Charles: 

Michael  Angelo  Buonarroti.  With  translations  of  the  life  of 
the  master  by  his  scholar,  Ascanio  Condi vi,  and  three  dia- 
logues from  the  Portuguese  by  Francisco  d'Ollanda. 

Kingsley,  Charles: 

The  Greek  Heroes. 

Lang,  Andrew: 

Book  of  Saints  and  Heroes. 

Lethaby,  W.  R.,  and  Swainson,  Harold: 

The  Church  of  Sancta  Sophia,  Constantinople.  A  study  of 
Byzantine  Building  with  quotations  from  Paulus  Silentiarus, 

xiii 


xiv  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

6th  Cen.  A.  D.,  and  the  Anonymous  of  Combesis  Originum 
Rerumque  Constantinopolitarium,  variis  auctoribus,  manip- 
ulus.  Paris,  1664. 

Lockhart,  F.  C.: 

Spanish  Ballads. 

Morris,  Charles: 

Historical  Tales:  Spanish. 

Mosso,  Angelo: 

The  Palaces  of  Crete  and  their  Builders. 

Newbolt,  Henry: 

The  Book  of  the  Happy  Warrior. 

Plummer,  Mary: 

The  Story  of  the  Cid. 

Southey,  Robert: 

Chronicle  of  the  Cid.    Translation  from  the  Spanish. 
Stories  of  Royal  Children.    Retold  from  St.  Nicholas. 

Vasari,  George: 

Lives  of  Seventy  of  the  most  Eminent  Painters,  Sculptors 
and  Architects.  Edited  by  E.  H.  and  E.  W.  Blashfield  and 
A.  A.  Hopkins. 

Villehardouin  and  de  Joinville : 

Memoirs  of  the  Crusades.   Translated  by  Sir  Frank  Marzials. 

Wilmot-Buxton,  E.  M.: 

The  Story  of  the  Crusades. 

Wilson,  Richard: 

Indian  Story  Book,  drawn  for  the  most  part  from  the  two  great 
Indian  Epics,  the  "Ramayana"  and  the  "Mahabharaba." 


MORE  MAGIC  PICTURES  OF  THE  LONG  AGO 


Little  Dancing  Figures  from  an  Egyptian  tomb  made  thousands  of  years  ago. 


ABOUT  THE  STORIES 

In  this  book  of  Magic  Pictures  you  are  going  to 
find  a  story  called  Picture  Children  in  which  all  the 
little  people  we  usually  see  quiet  and  still  within  their 
frames,  suddenly  come  to  life  and  frolic  and  dance 
together.  Miss  Chandler  will  tell  you  that  all  this 
happened  just  because  the  real  boys  and  girls  were 
wishing  hard  for  it.  In  that  same  magic  way  all 
these  stories  will  unfold.  Just  for  our  wishing  hard, 
the  wonderful  people  of  the  long  ago  will  come  back 
to  life,  will  take  us  with  them  in  their  great  sailing 
ships  far  up  the  river  Nile,  or  will  let  us  journey  in 
company  with  powerful  kings  and  fearless  knights 
upon  a  great  Crusade.  Sometimes  we  shall  see  royal 
children  who  never  learned  to  romp  but  like  little 
old  men  and  women  moved  sedately  in  and  out  of 
gloomy  palace  halls.  Another  time  we  may  be  thrilled 
by  a  wild  midnight  rider  who  reins  in  his  steed,  I  do 
declare,  right  under  our  window! 

It  matters  not  how  many  years  may  lie  between 
the  now  and  the  once-upon-a-time,  nor  how  far  away 
the  land,  for  with  a  storyteller  to  lead  us  we  can 


4 


ABOUT  THE  STORIES 


travel,  oh,  a  thousand  times  as  far  as  did  the  Little 
Lame  Prince  on  his  Magic  Carpet!  The  gates  to 
marvelous  realms  will  spring  open  when  the  story- 
teller begins  to  speak.  We  shall  feel,  each  time  we 
go  into  a  museum,  that  we  are  about  to  embark  upon 
a  wonderful  adventure,  for  everything  in  a  museum 
has  a  story  to  tell  if  only  we  can  find  it — everything 
from  the  little  figures  that  danced  their  way  out  of 
Egypt  "far  away  and  long  ago"  and  suddenly  re- 
appeared on  our  title-page,  to  the  boys  and  girls  of 
Colonial  days  who  bid  us  farewell  at  the  end  of  the 

book. 

C.  LOUISE  AVERY. 


A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 

1  am  going  to  tell  you  a  story  about  the  Egyptians,  over 
three  thousand  years  ago,  when  they  were  the  most  powerful 
nation  in  the  world,  at  the  height  of  their  power.  This  story 
is  of  a  great  Egyptian  queen  called  Hatshepsut,  who  lived  in 
the  mighty  city  of  Thebes  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Nile,  a  city 
filled  with  temples  and  palaces  and  beautiful  gardens.  Stronger 
was  she  and  better  able  to  rule  than  the  men  who  ruled  with  her, 
who  were  kings  in  name  rather  than  in  deed.  Sole  ruler  she 
was  for  many  years  and  she  governed  the  land  wisely  and  well. 
On  the  walls  of  the  wonderful  temple  which  she  built  at  the  foot 
of  the  cliffs  by  the  desert,  with  colonnades  and  terraces  shining 
in  the  brilliant  sunlight,  were  carved  pictures  and  stories  of  her 
life,  the  legendary  story  of  her  divine  birth,  and  the  history  of 
her  great  expedition  to  a  far-away  land.  There  they  remain  to 
this  day,  having  been  kept  in  safety  under  the  desert  sands, 
until  they  were  excavated  not  so  many  years  ago.  This  story 
is  based  upon  the  translations  of  the  accounts  written  in  the 
Egyptian  picture-writing  upon  their  paper  made  from  the 
papyrus-plant. 

IN  the  fragrant  and  beautiful  land  of   the  gods, 
Amon-Ra   was   king,  the   great  god,    creator  of 
earth,  water,  animals,    and  men:  around  about 
him  were  Osiris,  the  sun-god;  his  noble  wife,  Isis;  his 
sister,  Nephthys;  Horus,  his  son;  Ment,  god  of  war; 


6  A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 

Geb,  god  of  the  earth;  and  Nut,  the  sky-goddess.     To 
all  the  assembled  gods  spoke  Amon-Ra: 

"A  great  queen  shall  I  make  who  shall  rule  over 


TEMPLE  OF  QUEEN  HATSHEPSUT  AT  DEIR-EL-BAHRI,  EGYPT 
15th  century  B.  C. 

How  beautiful  it  must  have  been  as  the  sun  shone  upon  its  white  walls  with 
their  background  of  yellow  Theban  cliffs! 

Egypt,  Syria,  Nubia,  and  Punt;  she  shall  rule  over 
all  lands,  even  the  whole  world,  for  I  will  give  her 
all  countries." 

While  the  great  god  was  speaking,  there  entered 


A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT  7 

Thoth,  god  of  arts  and  letters,  in  the  form  of  an 
ibis,  that  his  flight  might  be  swift,  and  he  said  to 
Amon-Ra,  mightiest  of  the  gods,  the  maker  of  men: 

"Oh  Amon-Ra,  in  the  fair  land  of  Egypt  there  is 
a  maiden  wondrous  fair,  fairer  than  the  flowers  which 
the  sun  nourishes.  Should  not  she  be  the  mother  of 
this  great  queen  of  whom  thou  speakest?" 

Then  answered  the  great  Amon-Ra,  "Tell  us  the 
name  of  this  wondrous  mortal,  and  where  she  may 
be  found!" 

"Her  name  is  Ahmose,  wife  of  Thothmes  I,  King 
of  Egypt,  and  in  his  lofty  palace  you  may  find  her. 
Follow  me!" 

Thereupon  Thoth  in  the  shape  of  an  ibis,  flew  far 
away  towards  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  with  him  went 
Amon-Ra,  followed  by  all  the  gods  and  goddesses. 

As  swiftly  as  the  wind  they  reached  the  Egyptian 
land  and  found  Queen  Ahmose  in  her  magnificent 
palace.  She  was  sleeping  upon  a  couch  carved  in 
the  form  of  a  lion,  and  at  the  first  glance  they  saw 
that  Thoth  had  spoken  truly  and  that  she  was 
wondrous  fan*.  The  fragrance  they  had  brought  with 
them  from  the  land  of  Punt  awakened  the  Queen  who 
gazed  wonderingly  at  her  strange  visitors,  and 
especially  at  the  magnificent  king  of  the  gods, 


8  A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 

Amon-Ra,  disguised  as  the  King  of  Egypt  and 
adorned  with  brilliant  jewels,  and  his  beauty  and 
strength  were  very  great.  He  gave  to  the  Queen 
the  emblem  of  life  and  power  and  promised  her  that 
she  should  be  honored  among  the  gods,  and  that  to 
her  a  daughter  should  be  born  who  would  be  a  great 
queen  over  all  lands. 

When  the  gods  returned  to  the  land  of  Punt, 
Amon-Ra,  the  Maker  of  Men,  called  for  Khnum  ,who 
fashioned  the  bodies  of  men,  and  said: 

"Make  for  me,  oh  Khnum,  the  body  of  a  daughter 
for  me  and  Queen  Ahmose:  I  shall  make  her  a  great 
queen  and  she  shall  be  honored  throughout  the 
lands." 

Then  replied  Khnum,  "Oh  mighty  Amon-Ra,  as 
thou  hast  commanded  so  shall  it  be  done.  Thy 
daughter's  beauty  shall  surpass  that  of  her  mother, 
Queen  Ahmose,  and  of  the  gods,  and  it  shall  be  in 
keeping  with  her  glory  and  honor."  Thereupon 
Khnum  fashioned  the  body  of  the  maiden  out  of 
clay  by  means  of  his  potter's  wheel,  and  the  goddess 
of  birth  stood  by  his  side  ready  to  hold  out  the  sign 
of  life  to  the  clay  which  he  was  molding  so  that 
the  child  might  be  filled  with  the  breath  of  life. 
Great  was  the  rejoicing  when  the  child  was  born 


A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT  9 

and  hymns  were  sung  in  her  honor  and  a  long  pro- 
cession proceeded  to  the  temple  in  thanksgiving. 
The  child  was  named  Hatshepsut,  and  she  grew  to 
be  a  beautiful  woman  with  "skin  like  kneaded  gold" 
and  a  face  that  "shone  like  stars  in  a  festal  hall": 
she  was  beloved  by  Amon-Ra,  the  great  King,  Maker 
of  Men,  and  she  became  the  great  queen  he  had 
planned  she  should  be. 

Now  the  beautiful  Princess  Hatshepsut  was  the 
heiress  daughter  of  King  Thothmes  I  and  of  Queen 
Ahmose,  with  no  one  but  a  half-brother,  Thothmes 
III,  to  claim  a  share  of  the  crown,  and  the  Princess 
Hatshepsut  became  his  wife.  Splendid  were  the 
coronation  ceremonies  and  King  Thothmes  III  and 
Queen  Hatshepsut  reigned  for  thirteen  years,  most 
of  the  ruling  being  done  by  the  Queen  who  was  of 
a  far  stronger  character  than  her  co-ruler.  It  came 
to  pass  that  Her  Majesty  was  "beautiful  to  look  at 
above  all  things,  her  voice  was  that  of  a  god,  her 
frame  was  that  of  a  god,  she  did  everything  like 
a  god,  and  her  spirit  was  like  a  god." 

In  honor  of  her  divine  father,  Amon,  she  built,  as  the 
old  account  tells  us,  a  great  temple  at  Deir-el-Bahri, 
against  the  rugged  Theban  cliffs,  and  overlooking  the 
desert.  In  a  series  of  three  beautiful  terraces  its  white 


10    A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 

colonnades  rose  from  the  plain  to  the  yellow  cliffs  be- 
yond, and  on  the  ivory-white  walls  were  sculptured 
pictures  of  her  own  life,  all  filled  in  with  rich  yellow 
color  which  glowed  against  the  white  in  warmth  and 
beauty.  One  day  the  Queen  went  up  the  great  avenue 
bordered  with  crouching  sphinxes  leading  to  the 
temple  entrance,  each  sphinx's  head  a  portrait  of  her- 
self, and  she  entered  the  great  temple  and  stood  before 
the  shrine  of  the  great  god,  Amon.  Thereupon  she 
heard  a  command  from  the  throne,  the  voice  of  the 
god  himself  bidding  her  lead  an  expedition  to  the 
land  of  Punt,  the  original  land  of  the  gods. 

"'It  is  a  glorious  region  of  God's  Land,  it  is  in- 
deed my  place  of  delight;  I  have  made  it  for  myself 
in  order  to  divert  my  heart.  ...  It  is  a  secret 
Land,'  ...  to  which  I  will  lead  you  by  land  and 
by  sea  'on  mysterious  shores  which  join  the  harbors 
of  incense,  the  sacred  territory  of  the  divine  land." 

"It  shall  be  done  according  to  all  that  the  majesty 
of  the  great  god  has  commanded,"  said  the  Queen, 
and  at  once,  in  obedience  to  Amon's  request,  the 
Queen  fitted  out  five  great  galleys  and  filled  them 
with  Egyptian  products  to  be  used  as  barter  with 
the  people  of  Punt.  In  charge  of  the  great  under- 
taking was  the  Queen's  chief  treasurer,  Nehsi.  Then 


A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT  11 

with  propitiatory  offerings  to  the  divinities  of  the 
air  for  a  fair  wind  and  a  safe  and  successful  voyage, 
the  fleet  sailed  forth  down  the  river  Nile  and  through 
a  canal  leading  from  the  Eastern  Delta  to  the  Red 
Sea.  With  much  ceremony  and  rejoicing  they  sailed 
down  the  great  river  when  its  waters  were  high;  and 
to  the  people  watching  on  the  shore  very  marvelous 
indeed  were  the  boats.  There  was  one  which  had 
a  cabin  and  an  upper  deck  and  two  pavilions  for 
officers  of  high  rank,  and  these  pavilions  were  adorned 
with  royal  emblems — a  lion,  a  sphinx,  and  a  bull  tramp- 
ling upon  the  enemies  of  the  king.  Two  rudders  had 
this  boat,  though  the  others  had  but  one,  and  the 
prow  of  the  boat  was  carved  in  the  form  of  a  lotus 
flower.  In  the  leading  boat  stood  the  pilot,  sound- 
ing the  water  with  a  pole  and  issuing  commands 
which  were  repeated  by  other  pilots  along  the  line 
until  it  sounded  to  the  groups  on  the  shore  like 
a  series  of  echoes  growing  fainter  and  fainter.  In 
the  leading  boat  which  was  longer  than  the  others 
was  a  military  escort;  besides  the  huge  sails  there 
were  many  oarsmen  straining  at  their  oars,  and  as 
the  favorable  breezes  filled  the  sails  and  the  oarsmen 
plied  their  sturdy  oars,  gracefully  down  the  river 
they  sailed,  while  to  those  on  the  shore  they  sang: 


12    A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 

"'Sailing  in  the  sea,  beginning  the  goodly  way 
toward  God's  Land,'  we  go,  'journeying  in  peace  to 
the  land  of  Punt  .  .  .  according  to  the  command 
of  the  Lord  of  Gods,  Amon,  lord  of  Thebes,  presider 
over  Karnak,  in  order  to  bring  for  him  the  marvels 


AN  EGYPTIAN  BOAT  ON  THE  WAY  1X3  THE  LAND  OF  PUNT  AT  THE 
COMMAND  OF  QUEEN  HATSHEPSUT.  OVER  THREE  THOUSAND 
YEARS  AGO 

From  a  relief  in  the  Temple  of  Queen  Hatshepsut,  at  Deir-el-Bahri,  a  part  of 
Thebes  in  Egypt.  The  oarsmen  are  diligently  plying  their  oars  and  the  favorable 
breezes  fill  the  sails 

of  every  country,'  because  he  is  so  much  loved  by 
the  ruler  of  Upper  and  of  Lower  Egypt,  Hatshepsut, 
for  he  is  her  father,  e  Amon-Ra,  lord  of  heaven,  lord  of 
earth,  more  than  the  other  kings  who  have  'been  in 
this  land  forever." 


A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT     13 

The  gods  heard  the  prayers  of  the  Egyptians,  and 
they  sailed  down  the  Nile  and  through  the  canal  into 
the  Red  Sea  until  they  arrived  safely  in  Punt,  a  mar- 
velous country  stretching  along  the  two  shores  of 
the  Red  Sea,  the  Divine  Land,  the  birthplace  of  gods 
and  men:  a  wonderful  land,  where  incense  trees  grew 
in  abundance,  and  rich  palm  and  ebony  trees,  and 
where  were  found  gold,  ivory,  spices,  and  strange 
animals. 

With  their  ships  at  anchor,  the  Egyptian  com- 
mander pitched  his  tent  on  the  strange  shore,  and  the 
royal  messenger  of  Queen  Hatshepsut  advanced,  fol- 
lowed by  his  soldiers,  their  bodies  protected  by  great 
shields.  He  held  in  his  hands  an  offering  to  the 
goddess  Hathor,  and  objects  for  trade  with  the  Punt- 
ites, — necklaces,  hatchets,  and  daggers.  In  friendli- 
ness were  they  received  by  Perehu,  the  Puntite  chief, 
though  at  first  he  advanced  rather  distrustfully 
towards  his  strange  visitors,  fearful  of  the  armed  men. 
He  wore  a  necklace,  a  dagger  thrust  into  his  belt;  his 
right  leg  was  covered  with  rings  of  gold  and  he  carried 
a  boomerang  in  his  hand.  Following  him  were  his 
wife,  very  great  in  size,  his  two  sons,  and  a  daughter 
in  a  yellow  sleeveless  dress  reaching  halfway  between 
the  knee  and  the  ankle.  There  were  also  many  other 


14  A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 

b 

of  the  inhabitants  of  the  land  of  Punt,  somewhat  re- 
sembling the  Egyptians.  Then  the  people  of  Punt  fell 
upon  their  knees,  and  .their  chief,  bowing  low  before 
the  Royal  Messenger  of  the  Egyptians,  cried,  "'Why 
have  ye  come  hither  unto  this  land  which  the  people 
of  Egypt  know  not?'  And  how  did  ye  come?  'Did 
ye  come  down  upon  the  ways  of  heaven,  or  did 
ye  sail  upon  the  waters,  upon  the  sea  of  God's 
Land?'  .  .  .  Lo,  as  for  the  great  Ruler  of  Egypt, 
is  there  no  way  for  us  to  go  to  her  majesty,  'that 
we  may  live  by  the  breath  which'  she  'gives?'" 

Then  did  the  Egyptians  offer  to  the  Puntite  chief 
and  his  people  gifts  of  bread,  beer,  wine,  meat,  and 
fruit,  and  they  erected  a  stone  statue  of  Queen  Hat- 
shepsut.  Much  pleased  were  the  people  and  they 
gladly  welcomed  the  strangers  to  their  land. 

Very  queer  to  the  eyes  of  the  Egyptians  seemed 
this  strange  land  of  Punt.  To  protect  themselves 
against  wild  animals,  the  people  built  their  huts  on 
piles  and  were  forced  to  climb  into  them  by  means  of 
ladders.  It  was  not  long  before  the  ships  of  the  Egyp- 
tians were  drawn  up  on  the  beach,  the  gang-planks 
run  out  and  the  vessels  laden  with  marvels  from  the 
country  of  Punt:  fragrant  woods,  myrrh  trees,  pure 
ivory  and  ebony,  cinnamon- wood,  and  incense,  bab- 


A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT  15 

oons,  monkeys,  dogs,  skins  of  the  southern  panther, 
and  at  last  some  of  the  people  themselves  with  their 
children.  Long  did  it  take  to  load  the  ships  and 
heavy  was  the  work  of  the  men  going  back  and  forth 
along  the  gang-planks,  carrying  sacks  and  trees,  and 


LOADING  EGYPTIAN  BOATS  IN  PUNT 

Relief  from  the  Temple  of  Queen  Hatshepsut,  Deir-el-Bahri,  Egypt.  15th 
century  B.  C. 

Heavy  are  the  burdens  which  the  Egyptians  carry  on  board:  myrrh,  trees, 
precious  woods  and  stones,  and  strange  animals  which  they  had  never  seen  before. 

every  once  in  a  while  an  officer  would  shout,  "'Look 
to  your  feet,  ye  people!  Behold!  the  load  is  very 
heavy!  Prosperity  be  with  us'  that  we  may  take  the 
myrrh  trees  from  the  Land  of  Punt  to  our  own 
country  'for  the  house  of  Amon,'  and  for  our  Queen, 
according  to  her  command.  Never  has  the  like  of 


16    A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 

this  been  brought  before  for  any  ruler  of  Egypt  since 
the  beginning!" 

When  all  was  in  readiness,  and  the  vessels  were 
loaded  with  the  wonderful  products  from  the  land  of 
Punt,  they  started  homeward.  Two  years  had  passed 
since  the  sailing  of  the  great  expedition,  before  they 
reached  Thebes  in  their  own  land  and  laid  their  spoils 
at  the  feet  of  Queen  Hatshepsut.  Great  was  the  re- 
joicing and  loud  the  shouts  of  the  Egyptian  people 
as  they  watched  the  heavily  laden  ships  slowly  take 
their  places  at  the  docks.  Never  before  had  they  seen 
such  a  marvelous  sight  as  the  strange  Puntite  people 
when  they  came  ashore,  and  the  wonderful  products 
of  that  far-away  country.  A  long  procession  passed 
through  the  streets  to  the  royal  palace,  in  the  great 
audience  hall  of  which  sat  the  Queen,  enthroned,  staff 
in  hand,  before  the  sacred  image  of  the  great  god 
Amon,  and  behind  the  Queen  white-robed  priests  bore 
the  sacred  barque  of  Amon  before  which  Thothmes, 
co-ruler  with  Queen  Hatshepsut,  offered  myrrh  and 
incense.  Then  knelt  all  before  her,  four  lines  of  kneel- 
ing chiefs  from  the  Land  of  Punt,  two  rows  of  men 
with  gifts,  and  many  Egyptians  and  Puntites  with 
myrrh  trees  and  the  other  splendid  products  they  had 
brought,  while  behind  stood  the  Egyptian  soldiers 


A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT  17 

with  their  shining  shields.  With  low  bows  the  chiefs 
from  Punt  bore  their  tribute  to  Her  Majesty  who 
had  "set  all  the  lands  beneath  her  sandals." 

"'Hail  to  thee,'  oh  Rulers  of  Egypt,"  they  cried, 
"and  to  thee,  oh  great  Queen  'who  shines  like  the 


$ 


. x.  .,«         - 


-   *•    & 

s3m 

..,   ..      ::;.K;J..^.   .    _    ,v  —       '  ,  y^ 

CHIEFS  OF  PUNT  ARRIVING  BEFORE  THE  EGYPTIAN  RULER 

Relief  from  the  Temple  of  Queen  Hatshepsut,  Deir-el-Bahri,  Egypt,  15th  cen- 
tury B.  C. 
They  are  glad  to  see  the  great  Egyptian  ruler  whose  fame  has  reached  all  lands. 

sun!  Thy  name  reaches  as  far  as  the  circuit  of 
heaven,'  thy  fame  encircles  the  seas!  Gifts  have  we 
brought  to  Amon,  the  great  God,  Lord  over  Thebes 
and  Karnak,  and  may  you  have  long  life,  and  pros- 
perity, and  health,  oh  Queen  of  Upper  and  Lower 
Egypt,  and  may  you  rule  the  two  lands  forever!" 


18  A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 


Then  did  the  Queen  inspect  the  results  of  her 
great  expedition,  and  at  once  offered  a  large  portion 
of  the  offerings  to  Amon.  She  offered  to  the  god 
thirty-one  living  myrrh  trees,  the  like  of  which  had 
never  been  seen  before,  with  their  roots  protected 
by  balls  of  earth  fitted 
into  tubs.  There  were 
also  ebony,  ivory  shells, 
many  panther  skins,  and 
a  giraffe  very  strange  to 
the  people  of  Thebes. 
Huge  piles  of  myrrh 
measured  in  grain-meas- 
ures, large  rings  of  gold, 
silver,  lapis  lazuli  and 
every  splendid  and  costly 
stone  as  well  as  plants 
and  fruits.  The  trees  HEAD  OF  AMON,  A  GREAT  EGYP- 

.  TIAN  GOD.    15th  Century  B.  C. 

were  planted  in  the  gar- 
den of  the  temple  at  Thebes  where  they  grew  abun- 
dantly and  furnished  fresh  incense  for  the  service  of 
Amon. 

When  all  had  been  divided  as  the  Queen  com- 
manded, and  the  offerings  made  to  the  god  Amon, 
the  Queen  herself,  of  wondrous  beauty,  her  face 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 


A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT    19 

"shining  as  do  the  stars  in  the  midst  of  the  festival 
hall,"  ruler  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt,  and  favorite 
of  the  gods,  said: 

"It  has  been  done  according  to  all  that  the  maj- 
esty of  the  great  god,  Amon,  has  commanded;  far 
have  we  journeyed  into  the  distant  land  of  Punt, 
and  choice  ointments  and  incense  have  we  brought 
for  my  father,  the  divine  Amon.  Trees  have  been 
taken  from  this  Land  of  Punt,  the  far-away  home  of 
the  gods,  and  have  been  set  up  in  his  temple  in 
Thebes  that  a  Punt  might  be  established  in  his  own 
house;  I  have  made  for  him  'a  Punt  in  his  own 
garden,  just  as  he  has  commanded  me,'  that  he  may 
walk  abroad  in  it  and  enjoy  its  fragrance." 

As  they  listened,  they  seemed  to  hear  from  Amon- 
Ra,  Lord  of  Thebes,  and  King  of  the  Gods,  these 
words : 

"'Welcome,  my  sweet  daughter,  my  favorite,  the 
King  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt,  Hatshepsut!'  Thy 
people  have  I  led  on  land  and  on  sea  that  they  might 
bring  back  these  marvels  from  the  far-away,  glorious 
land  of  Punt.  Thou  satisfiest  my  heart  at  all  times, 
thou  it  is  who  makest  beautiful  my  monuments,  and 
to  thee  have  I  given  all  health  and  joy  and  all  lands: 
I  have  given  to  thee  Punt  with  its  treasures,  the 


20    A  GREAT  EGYPTIAN  QUEEN,  HATSHEPSUT 

myrrh-terraces  which  none  have  trod.  Now  do  I  re- 
joice that  these  fragrant  trees  have  been  caused  to 
grow  in  the  garden  of  my  temple,  in  order  that  I  may 
delight  my  heart  among  them.  'My  name  is  before 
the  gods,  thy  name  is  before  all  the  living,  forever." 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR1 

At  the  same  time  that  Queen  Hatshepsut  was  ruling  over 
Egypt  and  leading  her  expedition  far  to  the  eastward,  there 
were  people  living  on  the  shores  and  islands  of  the  Aegean  Sea. 
Again  and  again  was  the  story  told  of  how  Theseus  slew  the 
monster  called  the  Minotaur  on  the  island  of  Crete,  and  often 
people  would  wonder  whether  King  Minos  had  really  lived  in 
his  magnificent  palace.  And  then  the  marvelous  happened! 
In  1895  Sir  Arthur  Evans  of  England  set  men  to  work  on  the 
island  and  what  do  you  suppose  they  found  as  they  began  to 
dig?  They  discovered  a  great  palace  of  many  rooms  adorned 
with  bright  pictures;  stone  jars,  and  benches,  and  a  throne  with 
a  high  back  all  covered  with  beautiful  designs.  A  big  wall- 
painting  in  brilliant  colors  of  a  man  fighting  a  great  bull  was 
found  and  another  of  a  cupbearer.  Then  people  knew  that 
long  ago  in  Crete  there  was  a  civilization  far  advanced,  and  they 
began  to  believe  that  the  story  of  King  Minos  and  Theseus  may 
have  had  to  do  with  a  real  king  and  a  real  hero  who  lived  so  long 
ago  in  Crete.  Perhaps  Theseus  may  have  looked  like  the  picture 
of  the  youth  fighting  the  terrible  bull,  the  story  about  which  was 
told  so  many  times  that  it  became  partly  a  legend. 

In  museums  across  the  water  are  objects  of  this  very  time: 
and  from  the  copies  of  them  which  we  have  in  our  museums  you 
will  notice  the  bright  colors  of  the  court  ladies,  dancing  girls, 
cupbearers  and  bull-fighters,  and  you  will  see  how  freely  these 
figures  are  drawn. 

1  Based  upon  Kingsley's  "  Greek  Heroes." 
21 


22  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR      u 

So  now  I  am  going  to  tell  you  again  the  story  of  King  Minos, 
which  name  may  have  been  given  to  Cretan  kings  just  as  the 
name  of  Pharaoh  was  given  to  Egyptian  kings.  It  is  thought 
that  the  Palace  which  was  discovered  in  Crete  may  have  been 
connected  with  the  "Labyrinth"  of  the  story,  so  many  long 
corridors,  winding  passages  and  galleries  it  had.  From  the 
painted  and  sculptured  pictures  found  we  know  that  bull- 
fighting was  really  practised  in  Crete,  both  by  men  and  by 
women.  Who  knows,  then,  but  that  these  bull-fighters  may 
have  been  slaves  or  captives  won  from  different  lands?  And 
who  knows  but  that  at  last  there  was  one,  the  Theseus  of  our 
story,  who  proved  himself  a  great  hero  by  slaying  the  Minotaur 
and  freeing  his  fellow  captives? 


IN   the  fair   city    of   Athens,   thousands   of   years 
ago,  there  was  great  excitement.     A  festival  of 
thanksgiving  was  being  held  on  the  hill  of  the 
Acropolis   in   a  temple  dedicated  to  the  goddess   of 
wisdom,  Athena. 

"Behold!  there  cometh  this  way  the  hero  who  has 
rid  our  land  of  its  terrible  monsters,  the  pitiless 
creatures  who  have  brought  terror  to  all  our  hearts ! 
Hail  to  thee,  oh  hero,  let  us  take  thee  to  our  King!" 
cried  the  people  who  had  gathered  by  the  roadside. 
Theseus,  the  hero,  was  tall  and  strong,  clad  in 
armor,  with  a  shining  sword  by  his  side  and  golden 
sandals  upon  his  feet.  Thereupon  they  led  him  to 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR  23 

the  great  palace  on  the  Acropolis  and  straight  into 
the  banquet-hall  where  King  ^Egeus  sat  among  his 
guests  at  the  splendid  feast.  A  minstrel  was  there 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

COPY  OF  A  FRESCO  OR  WALL-PAINTING  OF  A  CAT  HUNTING  A 
PHEASANT.    Late  Minoan,  1600-1500  B.  C. 

From  Hagia  Triada,  Crete.    Now  in  the  Museum  at  Candia,  Crete. 

There  were  people  living  on  the  shores  and  islands  of  the  ^Egean  Sea  almost 
three  thousand  years  before  Christ  and  they  had  many  great  cities.  The  growth 
of  this  JSgean  art  in  Crete  is  called  Minoan  art,  from  the  period  of  Minos,  and  refers 
to  the  art  of  the  people  of  Crete  where  JSgean  art  had  its  first  center,  thousands  of 
years  ago.  There  are  three  periods:  early,  middle,  and  late  Minoan,  dating  from 
2800  B.  C.  to  1100  B.  C. 

playing  rich  music  on  his  golden  harp,  while  the 
young  men  of  the  court  laughed  as  the  wine-cup  was 
passed  around:  but  false  was  their  merriment  nor 


24  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 

i, 

did  their  words  of  affection  for  the  old  king  ring  true, 
for  all  that  they  cared  about  were  the  riches  and  the 
lands  which  belonged  to  him  and  not  one  of  them 
would  have  hesitated  to  do  him  harm.  Among  them 
sat  old  ^Egeus,  the  King,  white-haired  and  pale,  and 
when  he  saw  Theseus  he  asked,  "Who  art  thou, 
stranger?  Shouldst  thou  have  come  hither  for  our 
hospitality,  thou  art  full  welcome,  for  thou  lookest 
like  a  bold  warrior  and  a  hero." 

"Dost  thou  not  know  what  this  youth  has  done?" 
eagerly  cried  the  crowd  who  had  followed  Theseus  to 
the  palace.  "He  is  the  hero  who  has  rid  our  land  of 
its  terrible  monsters.  He  comes  from  Troezene,  an 
island  far-famed  for  its  temple  to  Poseidon,  god  of 
the  deep  blue  sea." 

At  the  name  of  the  land  from  which  the  stranger 
came,  King  JSgeus  started  and  trembled,  and  looked 
at  the  youth  strangely. 

"Place  a  seat  at  the  table  for  our  guest,"  cried 
the  old  King,  "and  set  before  him  the  best  of  the 
feast,  for  still  am  I  master  of  my  own  hall,  though 
others  would  take  from  me  my  throne." 

When  Theseus  had  finished  with  his  feasting,  he 
rose  from  his  seat  and  said: 

"Oh   King   ^Egeus,   I   would   demand   audience   of 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 


thee  alone!"  At  once  did  the 
wicked  youths  seated  near  the 
old  king  murmur  among  them- 
selves, fearing  lest  the  stranger 
should  find  favor  in  the  king's 
sight.  But  King  JSgeus  rose 
from  his  place  and  left  the 
banquet-hall,  bidding  his  guest 
follow  him. 

"Tell  me  thy  story,"  he  said 
when  they  were  alone. 

"Not  many  months  ago,  just 
after  my  nineteenth  birthday," 
"said  Theseus  slowly,  "my  mother 
said  to  me,  'My  son,  go  thou 
into  the  thicket  by  the  sea,  and 
lift  the  great  flat  stone  at  the 
foot  of  the  plane-tree  which  thou 
wilt  find,  and  bring  me  what  lies 
beneath.'  Twice  before  had  I 
tried  to  lift  that  stone  but 
strength  was  lacking.  This  time 
I  cried,  'This  stone  shall  be 
lifted,'  and  behold,  I  rolled  it 
over  on  the  ground.  Beneath  it 


Courtesy  of  the 
Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

COPY  OF  A  WALL- 
PAINTING  OF  A  CUP- 
BEARER 

Late  Minoan,  1500-1350 
B.  C.  From  the  Palace  at 
Knossos,  Crete. 


26  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 

I  found  a  sword  of  bronze  with  a  golden  hilt,  and 
near  by  a  pair  of  golden  sandals.  When  I  took  these 
to  my  mother,  long  did  she  weep,  and  she  led  me  by 
the  hand  down  by  the  sparkling  sea.  'My  son/  she 
said,  'in  Athens,  the  home  of  gods  and  of  men,  there 
dwells  a  king,  ^Egeus;  take  to  him  the  sword  and  the 
sandals,  and  call  to  his  mind  the  pledge  which  he  made, 
for  he  is  thy  father.'  Then  I  took  the  sword  and 
sandals  and  girded  on  my  armor,  and  learned  the 
pledge  I  was  to  repeat.  I  journeyed  far,  leaving  my 
mother  weeping,  for  both  husband  and  son  were  gone, 
and  I  said  within  my  heart,  'I  will  make  my  father 
love  and  welcome  me,  for  I  will  show  him  that  I  am 
worthy  to  be  his  son.'  So  on  my  journey  I  tried  to 
free  thy  land  from  robbers  and  strange  monsters  who 
were  bringing  terror  to  thy  people:  thus  did  I  hope 
by  the  just  use  of  my  father's  sword,  to  win  his 
love." 

Then  Theseus  stepped  close  to  the  old  king  and 
showed  him  the  sword  and  the  sandals  and  spoke  the 
words  his  mother  had  bade  him  say. 

The  eyes  of  ^Egeus  grew  dim  as  he  thought  of  his 
wife  left  alone  so  many  years  and  as  he  saw  his  tall 
son  before  him,  and  he  said,  "My  son,  thou  art 
a  better  man  than  thy  father  before  thee!  I  will 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR          27 

keep  my  pledge  of  claiming  thee  as  my  son  when  thou 
wert  able  to  move  the  stone,  and  proud  I  am  of 
thee!"  Then  they  went  back  to  the  banquet-hall, 
the  old  king  leaning  upon  the  shoulder  of  his  son, 
and  he  cried  to  all  those  assembled  there,  "Behold 
my  son!" 

Then  were  the  wicked  youths  who  were  seeking 
the  land  and  wealth  of  King  ^Egeus  very  angry,  and 
they  cried,  "Who  is  this  pretender  who  comes  from 
far  away?"  They  sprang  for  their  weapons,  but 
Theseus  stood  tall  and  courageous  and  cried,  "Your 
blood  be  upon  your  own  heads."  But  they  rushed 
upon  him  with  their  weapons,  twenty  against  one, 
yet  Theseus  conquered  them  all,  till  he  was  left 
alone  in  the  palace  with  his  old  father.  Great  then 
was  the  rejoicing  throughout  the  whole  city  that  the 
king  had  found  his  son,  and  that  the  wicked  had 
been  driven  from  the  land. 

For  many  months  were  Theseus  and  his  father 
happy  together  and  they  ruled  wisely  and  well,  but 
when  the  next  spring  came,  a  hush  fell  over  the  city 
as  though  some  great  sorrow  had  overtaken  it. 
Theseus  wondered  at  the  great  change,  though  no 
one  told  him  the  reason:  but  one  day  at  noon  a  swift 
messenger  came  running  into  the  market  place  and 


28          IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 

cried,  "Oh  King  ^Egeus,  ruler  over  Athens,  and  all 
ye  people,  I  am  come  for  thy  yearly  tribute!"  At 
that  a  great  moaning  and  sighing  was  heard  through- 
out the  city  for  all  the  people  knew  what  their  tribute 
must  be.  But  Theseus  cried,  "Why  dost  thou  de- 
mand tribute  of  these  people?  Why  is  this  sorrow 
forced  upon  them?" 

Thus  answered  the  herald  to  the  angry  Theseus, 
"King  Minos,  ruler  of  hundred-citied  Crete,  has  sent 
me  thither  for  the  tribute  which  King  ^Egeus  has 
promised  him.  The  son  of  King  Minos  was  slain  in 
thy  city  and  King  Minos  came  hither  to  avenge  his 
death  and  swore  not  to  depart  till  a  yearly  tribute 
of  seven  maidens  and  seven  youths  was  promised 
him." 

Old  King  ^Egeus  sadly  agreed  to  what  the  messen- 
ger had  said,  adding,  "We  must  endure  in  silence." 

Thereupon  Theseus  lifted  his  brazen  sword  high  in 
the  air,  crying,  "I  myself  will  go  to  the  island  of 
Crete  and  save  these  youths  and  maidens  from  the 
fate  to  which  they  are  sent." 

"Thou  shalt  not  go,  my  son!"  cried  old  Mgeus. 
"Thou  art  but  lately  arrived,  the  joy  of  my  old  age, 
and  ruler  of  this  land  after  I  am  gone.  Thou  shalt 
not  go  to  share  the  fate  of  these  youths  and  maidens 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR  29 

whom  King  Minos  thrusts  into  a  labyrinth  from 
which  no  mortal  can  escape:  there  they  are  devoured 
by  the  terrible  monster  of  that  land,  the  Minotaur 
whom  no  mortal  man  can  slay.  Thou  must  not  go, 
my  son!" 

Silent  then  were  all  the  people  and  they  looked  at 
Theseus  as  he  stood  there  so  straight  and  tall  and 
stern.  At  last  he  spoke  again:  "Yet  must  I  go,  my 
father,  to  slay  this  cruel  monster.  Fear  not  for  me, 
for  have  I  not  freed  this  land  from  monsters  like  to 
this  one?  So  shall  I  slay  the  Minotaur!" 

"Promise  me  then,  oh  my  son,"  said  King  ^Egeus, 
"  that  if  by  some  miracle  thou  shouldst  return  in  peace, 
thou  wilt  take  down  the  black  sail  of  the  ship  and 
put  out  a  white  one.  So  shall  I,  who  watch  for  it 
upon  the  cliffs,  know  that  thou  art  safe." 

"Let  us  now  go  down  to  the  black-sailed  ship," 
cried  Theseus,  when  he  had  promised,  and  with  great 
mourning  they  went  to  the  shore,  seven  maidens  and 
seven  youths,  Theseus  one  of  that  number,  and  all 
the  people  followed  them  in  sorrow. 

"Have  hope,  oh  my  father  and  all  ye  many 
people!"  cried  Theseus  as  the  black-sailed  vessel 
slowly  put  off  from  the  shore,  "for  this  monster  is 
not  immortal  and  he  shall  be  slain!"  Then  they 


30  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 

h 

sailed  away,  leaving  old  King  ^Egeus  and  all  his  sub- 
jects mourning  on  the  shore. 

A  favorable  breeze  bore  the  dark  ship  swiftly  over 
the  sparkling  waves  until  they  came  to  Crete,  an 
island  in  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  "in 
the  midst  of  the  Great  Green  Sea."  To  the  city  of 
Knossos  they  went,  straight  up  to  the  palace  of  Minos 
the  King,  ruler  over  the  isles  of  the  seas  and  favored 
of  the  gods.  Powerful  was  he,  for  he  had  conquered 
all  the  islands  in  the  ^Egean  Sea,  and  many  ships  had 
he  with  big  white  sails.  They  found  King  Minos 
seated  upon  his  golden  throne-chair  in  the  great  hall 
of  his  vast  palace.  Bright  pictures  were  there  on  the 
walls  against  which  stone  benches  were  placed;  and 
many  were  the  rooms,  the  corridors  and  secret  pas- 
sages in  the  great  palace. 

Theseus  stood  before  the  Cretan  king  and  cried, 
"Of  my  own  free  will  am  I  come,  oh  King,  to  ask 
a  favor  of  thee.  Let  me  be  thrown  first  to  the  mon- 
ster called  the  Minotaur!" 

"Who  art  thou?"  asked  the  king,  wondering  at  the 
courage  of  the  youth  who  had  come. 

"I  am  Theseus,  son  of  ^Egeus,  King  of  Athens,  to 
whom  thou  art  an  enemy,  and  I  am  come  hither  to 
bring  an  end  to  the  yearly  tribute!" 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR  31 

Then  said  King  Minos,  "Thou  art  brave,  and  I  am 
loth  to  see  thee  die,  but  will  keep  thee  in  my  palace." 

"Thou  shalt  not  keep  me  from  meeting  and  con- 
quering this  monster!"  returned  Theseus  boldly. 

"Thou  shalt  not  meet  him!"  commanded  King 
Minos.  "Take  this  rash  youth  away!" 

Twenty  young  men  sprang  forward  and  led  Theseus 
away  with  the  other  youths  and  maidens  and  im- 
prisoned them. 

But  one  there  was  who  had  taken  pity  on  them, 
Ariadne,  daughter  of  King  Minos.  "He  shall  not 
die!"  she  said  to  herself,  for  she  greatly  admired  the 
courage  and  strength  of  Theseus.  So,  when  the  dark- 
ness fell  and  even  the  moon  was  hidden  by  passing 
clouds,  she  went  down  to  the  prison  and  said  softly, 
"Brave  youth,  I  would  help  thee  and  thy  comrades, 
and  I  bid  thee  hasten  at  once  to  thy  ship.  Easy  it 
will  be  for  I  have  bribed  the  guards  before  the  door. 
Go  back  to  thine  own  land  of  Greece,  but  take  me 
with  thee,  for  my  father  would  treat  me  full  cruelly, 
should  he  find  what  I  have  done!" 

"Oh  beautiful  maiden,  thou  hast  our  thanks  for 
thy  kindness,  and  thou  shalt  go  to  Athens  with  us 
should  I  win,  but  I  must  not  depart  until  I  have  slain 
this  terrible  monster,  the  Minotaur,  and  thus  avenged 


32  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 

the  deaths  of  all  the  youths  and  maidens  who  have 
been  sent  each  year  from  our  city!" 

When  Ariadne  heard  these  words  she  admired 
Theseus  even  more  than  before,  and  gave  him  a  clue 
of  thread  given  her  by  Vulcan  and  so  firm  that  it 
would  not  break,  that  he  might  find  his  way  out 
again.  Thereupon  Theseus  knelt  before  her  and 
thanked  her,  and  then  when  the  next  evening  came 
with  its  darkness,  she  led  him  to  the  labyrinth  with 
its  many  windings  from  which  no  man  had  escaped 
and  in  the  very  center  of  which  lived  the  Minotaur. 

Through  winding  and  circular  paths  he  went,  now 
over  rocks,  now  in  caves  and  now  across  turbulent 
streams.  To  the  left,  to  the  right,  up  and  down  he 
hastened  until  he  became  bewildered  and  completely 
at  a  loss.  But  he  had  not  forgotten  the  thread  which 
the  good  Ariadne  had  given  him,  and  when  he  started 
out  on  his  wanderings  in  the  labyrinth  he  fastened 
one  end  of  it  to  a  rock  and  let  it  unravel  as  he  went. 
On  and  on  he  hastened,  growing  more  and  more  dizzy 
at  his  many  turnings,  until  he  came  to  a  circular 
space  surrounded  by  dark  and  high  cliffs,  in  the  very 
center  of  which  was  the  Minotaur.  Terrible  was  he 
and  strange,  with  the  body  of  a  man  and  the  head  of 
a  bull;  the  teeth  of  a  lion  he  had  with  which  to  tear 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 


33 


his  victims.  When  he  saw  Theseus  he  rushed  upon 
him  with  his  head  down  and  with  so  loud  a  roar  that 
it  resounded  among  the  cliffs. 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art, 

COPY  OF  A  WALL-PAINTING  SHOWING  A  SCENE  FROM  A  MINOAN 

CIRCUS 

Late  Minoan,  1500-1350  B.  C.  From  Knossos,  Crete,  and  in  the  Museum  at 
Candia,  Crete. 

Perhaps  this  really  has  something  to  do  with  the  story  of  Theseus  and  the  terrible 
bull,  the  Minotaur!  See  how  fiercely  the  bull  is  rushing  forward  with  his  head  low, 
while  a  woman  is  being  carried  on  the  horns  she  has  seized.  All  the  colors  are  very 
bright,  the  costumes  of  the  people  and  the  border  being  of  red,  yellow,  brown  and 
blue.  Another  girl  is  standing  behind  with  outstretched  arms  while  a  boy  is  turning 
a  somersault  on  the  bull's  back. 

Quickly  then  did  Theseus  step  aside  and  he  struck 
at  the  Minotaur  with  his  brazen  sword  again  and 
again  as  the  monster  charged  upon  him,  till  the 
Minotaur  fled,  for  never  before  had  anyone  wounded 


34  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 

i. 

him  and  deprived  him  of  his  victim.  As  swiftly  as 
the  wind  did  Theseus  follow  him  through  the  caves 
and  over  the  rocks,  while  the  hills  around  resounded 
with  the  roaring  of  the  monster.  Up,  up  a  high  cliff 
they  went,  in  and  out  among  the  rocks,  until  Theseus 
caught  up  with  him  and  grasped  him  by  the  horns, 
forcing  his  head  back,  back,  until  he  could  drive  the 
blade  of  his  wonderful  sword  through  the  huge 
throat. 

Triumphant,  then,  Theseus  started  back  through 
the  winding  paths,  finding  his  way  by  means  of  the 
thread  until  he  came  to  the  entrance  of  the  labyrinth 
where  Ariadne  waited  for  him,  calling  upon  the  gods 
to  preserve  him. 

"The  Minotaur  is  slain!"  he  cried  to  her  joy,  but 
she  put  her  finger  on  her  lips  for  silence  and  softly 
led  him  back  to  the  prison  from  which  she  led  forth 
the  captive  youths  and  maidens  while  the  guards  still 
slept.  Swiftly  down  to  the  waiting  boat  they  made 
their  way,  and  Theseus  remembered  his  promise  to 
Ariadne  to  take  her  with  him  far  away  from  her 
father's  anger. 

So  they  set  sail  while  the  sky  was  yet  dark.  Swiftly 
the  favorable  breeze  bore  them  on  their  way,  but  so 
excited  were  they  and  so  eager  to  get  home  that 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 


35 


Theseus   quite  forgot  to  remove  the  dark  sail   and 
hoist  the  white  one  as  old  ^Egeus  had  requested. 

Day  by  day  had  King  ^Egeus  gone  to  the  highest 
hill  to  look  far  over  the  tossing  waves  for  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  returning  ship.  Then  one  day  he  saw 
it  just  appearing  against  the  horizon,  and  lo!  the  sail 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

COPY  OF  A  WALL-PAINTING  OF  FLYING  FISH 
Late  Minoan,  1600-1500  B.  C. 

From  Melos,  and  now  in  the  National  Museum,  Athens. 

The  Minoan  artists  loved  to  represent  animals  and  birds  and  fishes  full  of  life 
and  movement;  these  fishes  really  seem  to  fly! 

was  black.  Great  then  was  the  grief  of  the  old  King, 
for  he  thought  that  his  son  was  dead,  slain  by  the 
Minotaur.  Over  and  over  again  he  thought  how 
cruelly  he  had  neglected  his  wife  for  so  many  years, 
and  how  through  his  own  injustice  the  son  of  King 


36  IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MINOTAUR 

Minos  had  been  slain,  for  which  misdeed  Theseus  had 
perished.  In  his  grief  he  fell  from  the  rocks  into  the 
sea,  the  ^Egean  Sea  named  for  him,  and  perished. 

So  when  Theseus  arrived  in  Athens  he  found  him- 
self King  and  as  he  mourned  over  his  father's  death 
and  his  own  forgetfulness,  he  vowed  to  the  gods  on 
Mt.  Olympus  that  he  would  rule  the  land  wisely  and 
well:  and  so  well  did  he  keep  his  vow  that  all  his 
people  loved  and  honored  him,  and  gladly  obeyed  his 
wise  laws,  and  he  brought  his  mother  to  the  fair  city 
of  Athens  that  he  might  make  up  to  her  the  years  of 
sorrow  she  had  known. 


A  STORY  FROM  COLORED  GLASS,  OR,  JUS- 
TINIAN AND  THEODORA 

We  have  heard  stories  about  the  wonderful  Egyptian  temples 
at  Karnak  and  Thebes,  with  their  lotus  flower  capitals  and 
their  carved  wall  pictures;  of  the  most  famous  temple  of  the 
Greeks,  that  great  temple,  the  Parthenon,  built  on  the  hill  in 
Athens  called  the  Acropolis;  of  the  triumphal  arches,  theaters, 
and  temples  built  by  the  Roman  emperors;  of  that  marvelous 
French  cathedral,  Rheims  Cathedral  where  Joan,  the  French 
maid,  led  the  Dauphin,  Charles  VII,  to  be  crowned,  and  which 
has  now  been  blackened  by  the  smoke  of  war  and  shattered  by 
shells — all  save  the  statue  of  Joan  of  Arc  which  still  stands  to 
inspire  the  French  people  and  lead  them  on  to  victory;  and  now 
we  are  going  to  hear  a  story  about  a  great  temple  built  in  Con- 
stantinople, one  of  the  best  preserved  of  the  old  churches;  first 
built  by  the  Emperor  Constantine,  then  burned  and  later  re- 
built by  Justinian  in  the  6th  century  A.  D.,  all  over  thirteen 
hundred  years  ago.  It  has  been  called  "A  work  as  they  report 
surpassing  every  edifice  in  the  world,"  J  and  "  The  fairest 
church  in  all  the  world."  2  About  this  great  emperor,  Jus- 
tinian, who  rebuilded  it,  and  his  empress  and  their  court  were 
pictures  made  from  closely  fitting  cubes  of  glass  called  mosaics, 
and  we  shall  see  here  pictures  of  some  of  these. 

1  William  cf  Malmesbury. 
»  Sir  John  Mandeville. 
37 


38  JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 

JUSTINIAN  the  Unjust ! "  How  the  name  rankled 
in  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  Emperor  Jus- 
tinian, thin,  clean-shaven  and  plainly  dressed, 
as  he  sat  in  his  palace  in  Constantinople  in  the  East 
over  thirteen  hundred  years  ago.  That  was  what 
the  people  had  cried  as  they  rose  in  their  rebellion 
against  him.  "Have  I  been  unjust?"  he  asked  him- 
self again  and  again  as  he  sat  with  bowed  head  re- 
gardless of  all  the  splendor  about  him,  and  his  heart 
answered  that  he  had  been,  as  he  saw  again  the  ter- 
rible massacre  in  the  Circus,  and  the  fires  kindled 
in  the  city  in  which  was  destroyed  that  wonderful 
church  founded  by  Constantine. 

"Despair  not,  oh  Caesar,"  said  the  Empress  Theo- 
dora advancing  softly  before  him  and  laying  her  hand 
gently  upon  his  shoulder.  Dressed  in  magnificent 
robes  was  she,  tall  and  stately,  with  a  dignity  in  her 
bearing  that  made  her  the  fit  companion  of  an  em- 
peror. "Thou  art  Emperor  still  though  the  fickle 
people  are  plotting  to  put  another  in  thy  place.  Thou 
hast  been  a  hard  ruler,  oh  my  husband,  but  it  is  not 
too  late  to  please  and  win  thy  people  even  now.  Not 
merely  against  thee  have  they  taken  up  arms  but 
against  their  God,  and  God  has  allowed  them  to  do 
this  thing  and  destroy  His  church,  that  the  beauty  of 


JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA  ?9 

the  restored  church  might  be  twofold!  Thou  art  the 
one,  oh  Csesar,  to  thus  please  thy  God  and  thy 
people,  so  throw  off  thy  sorrow  and  thy  remorse  and 


THEODORA  AND  HER  ATTENDANTS 

A  Byzantine  Mosaic,  6th  century  A.  D.    Ravenna,  Church  of  San  Vitale. 
Just  think  of  the  careful  and  delicate  work  in  the  forming  of  these  pictures  from 
little  cubes  of  glass,  all  cunningly  fitted  together. 

think  of  the  wonderful  church  which  thou  shalt  re- 
build!" 

Thus  did  the  noble  Empress  arouse  and  inspire  her 
husband,   the  Emperor,   and  far   into  the  night  he 


40  .  JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 

i» 

thought  and  planned  of  the  great  church  which  he 
should  erect.  The  bright  light  of  the  moon  was 
shining  upon  the  gardens  and  the  terraces  which 
surrounded  the  palace,  and  as  the  Emperor  gazed 
into  the  distance,  thinking,  thinking,  of  this  wonder- 
ful church  which  should  be  built,  he  heard  a  clear 
voice  close  beside  him  saying:  "I  am  sent  by  the 
Most  High  God  to  help  thee  erect  a  temple  which 
shall  surpass  all  that  have  ever  been  built  'from  the 
time  of  Adam." 

Then  did  Justinian  raise  his  eyes  and  in  the  great 
light  all  around  him,  far  brighter  than  the  moonlight, 
he  seemed  to  see  before  him  an  angel  from  whose 
face  and  wings  was  coming  a  strange  white  light,  and 
the  angel  in  low,  clear  tones,  pictured  to  him  the 
finished  church  which  he  should  build.  In  all  its 
completion  he  saw  it,  with  its  columns,  its  golden 
dome,  and  its  marble  pavements. 

"In  height  shall  it  rise  to  the  heavens,"  said  the 
angel,  "and  of  marvelous  beauty  and  harmony  shall 
it  be,  and  full  of  a  wonderful  light.  A  great  golden 
dome  shall  it  have  which  shall  appear  to  rest  upon 
no  foundation  but  to  be  suspended  from  heaven  by 
golden  chains,  and  its  glory  shall  reflect  upon  the 
marble  pavement  below.  Of  great  beauty  shall  be 


JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA  41 

the  columns  with  their  lace-like  capitals,  so  that  one 
will  seem  to  'come  upon  a  meadow  full  of  flowers  in 
bloom!'  Wonderful  shall  it  be  so  that  each  wor- 
shiper therein  shall  perceive  that  not  by  human  skill 
was  it  built  but  by  the  plan  of  God,  who  has  chosen 
it  for  his  dwelling-place!  Of  little  squares  of  gold 
shall  the  vaulting  be  formed  which  shall  dazzle  the 
eyes  of  men  as  the  sunlight  falls  upon  it,  so  that  not 
only  without  but  within  may  be  brightness.  Thus 
shall  it  be,  oh  Justinian,  and  God  shall  prosper  thee 
in  thy  great  undertaking!" 

Scarcely  could  the  Emperor  wait  until  the  morning 
light  appeared  so  that  he  might  begin  his  great  work. 
Skilled  workmen  he  collected  from  every  land:  An- 
themius  of  Lydia,  well  skilled  in  the  art  of  building, 
and  Isidorus  of  Miletus,  a  man  with  the  ability  to 
carry  out  the  plans  of  the  Emperor. 

"A  great  and  glorious  church  to  the  glory  of  God 
shalt  thou  build,"  cried  Justinian,  standing  erect  and 
strong  before  them,  his  eyes  filled  with  the  vision  of 
the  church  which  had  been  revealed  to  him,  while  by 
his  side  stood  the  Empress  full  of  joy  and  ready  with 
words  of  encouragement. 

As  the  Emperor  talked  and  the  plan  of  the  church 
unfolded  itself,  the  workmen's  eyes  began  to  sparkle 


42  JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 

b 

and  they,  too,  were  fired  with  enthusiasm,  and  with 
swift  fingers  they  sketched  a  plan  of  the  church  and 
were  eager  to  lay  the  foundations. 
No  time  did  they  lose,  and  when  the  site  was  meas- 


JUSTINIAN  AND  HIS  ATTENDANTS 

A  Byzantine  Mosaic,  6th  century  A.  D.    Ravenna,  Church  of  San  Vitale. 
Here  stands  the  great  Emperor  Justinian  and  his  court  in  their  long  robes. 

ured,  the  Emperor  bade  Eutychius,  an  old  and  holy 
man,  to  offer  prayers  for  its  safe  building.  Then  did 
the  Emperor  take  the  first  stone  and  lay  it  in  its 
place,  saying,  "Many  thanks  do  I  return  for  the 


JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA  43 

angel  who  appeared  to  me  in  a  dream  disclosing  to 
me  the  form  of  the  church  to  be  built  and  may  it 
grow  in  all  its  glory  and  live  through  the  ages  to  the 
wonderment  of  men  and  the  worship  of  God!" 

"One  hundred  master  workmen,  each  with  a  hun- 
dred men,  making  ten  thousand  in  all  shall  there  be," 
decreed  the  Emperor,  "that  the  work  may  go  quickly, 
for  I  long  to  see  the  completion  of  this  vision  of  my 
dreams!" 

Great  then  was  the  excitement,  the  hurry  and  the 
bustle,  and  the  Empress  Theodora  with  her  ladies-in- 
waiting  went  often  through  the  portico  leading  from 
the  palace  to  the  site  of  the  great  church,  to  watch 
it  grow  into  a  splendid  whole.  Thousands  of  work- 
men were  busy;  some  digging  the  foundations,  others 
preparing  the  lime  and  forming  the  bricks  to  be  dried 
in  the  sunlight.  There  were  polishers,  stonecutters, 
carpenters  and  all  kinds  of  laborers,  each  doing  his 
best  with  interest  and  enthusiasm  kept  alive  by 
the  Emperor,  who  every  day  inspected  the  work 
and  the  laborers,  giving  them  weekly  a  higher  wage 
than  that  of  the  .week  before.  Ships  laden  with 
marbles  and  woods  arrived  daily,  and  the  sound  of 
hammering  and  pounding  never  ceased.  One  day  the 
Emperor  came,  clad  in  a  long  white  linen  garment, 


44  JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 

i. 

his  head  covered  with  a  kerchief,  and  by  his  side  was 
the  Empress,  noble  and  fair,  in  long  white  robes  with 
a  gleaming  necklace  around  her  neck. 

"Behold  my  ten-thousand  workmen,  how  diligently 
they  work  and  how  eagerly!"  cried  Justinian  as  he 
saw  the  great  piers  and  columns  erected,  and  the 
mighty  vaults  raised. 

"Even  so,  oh  Caesar,"  answered  Theodora  with 
shining  eyes,  "soon  shall  those  great  piers  carry  the 
golden  dome  high  into  the  heavens,  and  the  marbles 
and  the  mosaics  of  colored  glass  and  stones  will 
gleam  in  the  sunlight." 

Many  people  each  day  gathered  to  watch  the  prog- 
ress of  the  work,  and  they  understood  the  Emperor's 
desire  to  please  them  and  worship  God,  and  no 
longer  did  they  call  him  the  "Unjust,"  but  "Justinian 
the  Upright!" 

One  day,  at  the  third  hour,  when  Strategius, 
guardian  of  the  treasures  of  the  palace  and  adopted 
brother  of  the  Emperor,  had  ordered  the  men  to 
stop  their  work  and  go  to  their  dinners,  the  little 
fourteen-year-old  son  of  Ignatius,  the  first  mechanic, 
was  left  behind  to  watch  the  workmen's  tools.  Sud- 
denly there  appeared  before  him  a  man,  tall  and 
stately,  and  clad  in  shining  robes,  who  said,  "Where- 


JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA  45 

fore  do  the  workmen  leave  the  work  of  God?"  The 
child,  thinking  the  stranger  a  high  officer  from  the 
palace,  bowed  low  before  him,  and  said,  "They  have 
gone  to  eat  their  noonday  lunch,  oh  Master." 

"Go  thou  and  bring  the  Emperor,"  said  the  shining 
stranger,  "and  I  will  stay  here  on  guard  until  ye 
return." 

Quickly  then  ran  the  lad  to  find  his  father  who  led 
him  before  the  Emperor  as  he  sat  dining.  When  he 
had  heard  the  story  of  the  boy  he  knew  that  no  officer 
of  the  palace  had  appeared  before  him,  but  an  angel  of 
the  Lord,  just  as  one  had  appeared  earlier  to  him  in  a 
dream  to  inspire  him  to  do  his  great  work.  "Behold! 
God  has  accepted  my  temple!"  cried  the  Emperor  as  he 
rose  hastily  from  the  table.  Then  he  turned  to  where 
his  Empress,  Theodora,  was  seated,  and  taking  her 
by  the  hand,  he  said,  "The  temple  shall  be  called 
Sancta  Sophia,  the  'Word  of  God!'" 

Then  did  the  Emperor  send  the  boy  away  with  gifts, 
but  he  allowed  him  not  to  return  to  the  temple,  fear- 
ing lest  the  angel  who  was  guarding  it  should  depart. 

"Truly  this  is  a  miracle!"  cried  the  Emperor,  as 
he  and  all  his  people  worshiped  God  and  the  great 
work  went  swiftly  on.  Ten  and  thirty  windows  were 
there  in  the  great  dome,  and  crowning  it  was  a  golden 


46  JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 

i, 

cross  of  dazzling  brilliancy  To  Rhodes  sent  the 
Emperor  for  bricks  of  Rhodian  clay  made  equal  in 
weight  and  length  and  on  them  was  engraved,  "God 
is  in  the  midst  of  her,  therefore  shall  not  •  she  be 
moved;  God  shall  help  her,  and  that  right  early." 
With  rare  marbles  were  the  walls  covered,  the  many- 
colored  marble  from  the  Phrygian  range,  the  color  of 
rose  and  white;  the  emerald  green  from  Sparta,  and 
from  Lydia  bright  stone  mingled  with  red. 

On  the  twenty-fourth  of  December,  Christmas  Eve, 
in  537  A.  D.,  was  the  great  church  completed,  after 
nearly  six  years  of  work,  and  on  that  day  was  held 
a  splendid  celebration.  A  long  procession  marched 
from  the  palace,  the  Emperor  and  the  Empress  at  the 
head  in  a  great  chariot  drawn  by  many  horses.  Loud 
was  the  cheering  as  they  passed,  for  the  people  knew 
that  the  Emperor  was  now  seeking  to  help  and  not  to 
oppress  them,  and  among  the  poor  on  that  very  day 
had  he  distributed  sheep  and  fowls,  and  thirty  thou- 
sand measures  of  wheat.  At  the  lofty  entrance  Eu- 
tychius,  the  old  and  white-haired  man  of  the  city,  re- 
ceived them,  but  Justinian  walked  alone  through  the 
doorway,  crying,  " '  Glory  be  to  God  who  has  thought 
me  worthy  to  finish  this  work.  Solomon,  I  have 
surpassed  thee." 


JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA  47 

Then  the  long  procession  of  the  court  and  the 
church  officials  entered  the  church,  and  wonder  filled 
the  hearts  of  all — men,  women,  and  children— as  they 
gazed  about  them.  It  seemed  as  if  "some  midnight 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  SANCTA  SOPHIA,  CONSTANTINOPLE 

Just  try  to  imagine  how  wonderful  the  church  must  have  been  with  its  gold  and 
jewels  and  little  cubes  of  glass;  and  look  for  the  graceful  columns  and  the  many 
windows  in  the  great  dome. 

sun  illumined  the  glories  of  the  temple,"  or  as  if  they 
were  gazing  on  the  stars  of  the  heavens,  so  bright  was 
it,  and  its  beauty  was  marvelous  to  behold,  decorated 
with  gold  and  jewels  from  dome  to  pavement.  Mo~ 


48  JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 

It 

saics  were  there  on  the  walls  formed  of  glass  and  cut 
into  small  cubes  all  gold  and  silver  and  bright  in 
colors,  and  formed  into  patterns  of  saints  and  angels: 
while  on  the  pavements  were  mosaics  of  colored 
stones.  In  purple  were  Justinian  and  Theodora 
dressed  and  on  their  heads  were  diadems  of  gold,  and 
they  were  led  by  the  old  and  white-haired  Eutychius; 
they  went  to  their  royal  seats,  followed  by  the  clergy 
and  by  the  lords  and  ladies  of  the  court.  The  sol- 
diers' armor  gleamed,  the  sound  of  chanting  was 
heard,  and  the  scent  of  incense  was  heavy  on  the  air. 
Justinian,  with  the  Empress  by  his  side,  went  forward 
to  the  pulpit  to  which  led  steps  of  gold,  and  when  it 
came  the  time  for  prayers  the  Emperor  and  Empress 
removed  their  crowns  and  stood  with  bared  heads. 

"By  the  favor  of  God  has  this  work  been  com- 
pleted!" cried  the  bishops:  "He  cannot  be  far  off 
for  he  has  chosen  this  as  his  resting  place!" 

There  were  two  among  the  vast  throng  whose 
hearts  were  filled  to  overflowing,  Anthemius  and 
Isidorus,  who  had  carried  out  the  plans  of  the  won- 
drous church,  and  who  stood  drinking  in  the  singing, 
the  richness  of  the  gold  and  the  mosaics,  the  spark- 
ling of  the  precious  stones,  and  the  majesty  of  the 
dome  and  huge  arches. 


JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA  49 

"Art  thou  not  well  pleased,  oh  Caesar?"  asked 
Theodora  softly  of  her  husband,  as  they  listened  to 
the  hymns  of  praise  which  were  being  sung.  "Not 
by  human  strength  has  this  been  built,  and  never 
before  have  such  wonderful  marbles  been  brought 
together.  The  deep  purple  of  some,  the  burning  red 
of  others,  the  brilliant  green  and  the  gleaming  white 
are  marvelous  to  behold,  and  the  gold,  the  silver, 
the  stones,  the  gems,  are  so  placed  and  welded  to- 
gether that  they  form  a  perfect  whole." 

"Long  live  the  Emperor  Justinian!"  cried  the  de- 
lighted people  as  they  followed  the  long  procession 
to  the  palace.  "Justinian  the  Upright!" 

Far  into  the  night  the  Emperor  and  his  Empress 
talked  of  the  greatness  of  the  church,  the  splendor 
of  its  design  and  the  marvel  of  its  completion. 

"All  men  shall  admire  it  and  know  that  I  am  the 
Emperor  and  that  I  have  far  surpassed  King  Solo- 
mon!" began  Justinian  boastfully;  "who  knows  but 
the  East  may  be  joined  with  the  West,  and  I  the 
ruler  of  them  both?" 

"Remember,  oh  Caesar,"  said  Theodora  softly,  "that 
it  was  not  to  thy  greatness  that  the  church  was  built 
but  to  the  glory  of  God,  that  He  might  have  a  new 
dwelling  place  far  surpassing  the  temples  built  by  the 


50 


JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 


worshipers  of  all  lands  in  olden  times.  Then  did  the 
angel  appear  to  thee  in  thy  dream,  oh  my  husband, 
and  prospered  thee  in  thy  great  work,  and  has  stood 
guardian  over  its  greatness.  Boast  not  then  that 


CHURCH  OF  SANCTA  SOPHIA,  CONSTANTINOPLE 

thou  has   surpassed   Solomon,   but  rather  that  thou 
hast  been  deemed  worthy  to  build  such  a  work!" 

Then,  as  they  looked  out  over  the  city,  they 
thought  they  heard  again  the  voice  of  the  angel,  the 
guardian  of  the  great  church,  Sancta  Sophia,  "Holy 
Word,"  and  in  the  shining  light  which  surrounded 


JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 


51 


them,  the  Emperor  saw  once  again  his  own  vanity, 
his  desire  for  conquest,  for  glory,  his  injustice  to  the 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

IVORY  LEAVES  OF  THE  CONSULAR  DIPTYCH  OF  JUSTINIAN,  CONSUL 

in  521  A.  D. 

A  "diptych"  means  a  book  of  two  leaves  and  it  was  customary  for  consuls  to 
present  these  ivory  diptychs  upon  their  election,  to  the  Senate  and  then-  friends. 
All  over  the  leaves  was  a  thin  layer  of  wax  upon  which  the  deeds  of  the  consul  was 
scratched.  This  diptych  belonged  to  Justinian  when  he  was  made  consul, — the 
same  Justinian  who  later  became  Emperor.  The  one  on  the  right  says,  '  Gifts  of 
little  cost,  it's  true,  but  prolific  of  honors;'  that  on  the  left  says,  'I  the  Consul  of- 
fer these  to  my  Fathers,'  meaning  the  Senate. 


52  JUSTINIAN  AND  THEODORA 

i» 

people  which  had  caused  the  great  uprising  in  the 
Circus  where  so  many  lives  were  lost,  and  he  cried 
as  he  stretched  out  his  arms,  "I  have  sinned,  and 
deserved  was  the  name  of  the  'Unjust,'  but  this  holy 
church  of  Sancta  Sophia  I  have  built  with  a  humble 
heart  and  clean  hands,  to  please  my  people  and  to 
glorify  Thee,  that  it  might  find  favor  in  Thy  sight!" 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 

Many  were  the  wars  fought  between  the  East  and  the  West 
aver  the  Holy  City  of  Jerusalem,  until  at  last  a  new  spirit  arose, 
a  spirit  of  religious  devotion,  when  each  knight  took  an  oath  to 
treat  all  travelers  with  respect,  not  to  fight  for  personal  revenge, 
always  to  defend  women  in  distress,  and  to  keep  the  three  watch- 
wards,  Religion,  Honor,  and  Courtesy.  It  was  the  beginning 
of  the  spirit  of  Chivalry  which  plays  such  an  important  part  in 
the  stories  of  the  Crusades  when  pilgrims — men,  women,  and 
children — took  the  long  and  hard  journey  to  the  Holy  Land  to 
visit  the  places  where  Christ  used  to  work,  and  sought  to  take  the 
Holy  City  from  the  Infidels.  These  pilgrims  called  themselves 
"  Soldiers  of  the  Cross  "  and  ware  upon  their  breasts  or  shoulders 
the  sign  of  the  Cross. 

There  was  the  First  Crusade  which  was  successful  in  the 
taking  of  the  Holy  City,  but  the  Second  Crusade  was  a  failure; 
then  came  the  Third  Crusade  with  the  adventures  of  Richard  the 
Lion-Hearted,  followed  by  several  other  crusades,  among  them 
that  of  the  Children.  This  story  is  of  the  Eighth  Crusade,  that 
of  King  Louis  IX  of  France.  King  Louis  was  a  wise  and  good 
ruler  and  it  was  said  of  him  that  "it  was  hardly  possible  for  any 
man  to  reach  greater  excellence,"  and  so  he  won  far  himself  the 
title  of  " Saint"  Louis. 

This  story  that  I  am  going  to  tell  you  is  based  upon  the  writ- 
ings of  a  great  French  noble,  Sire  de  JoinviUe,  who  went  with 
King  Louis  on  his  Crusade,  and  who  dearly  loved  him. 

53 


54  THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 

•  ITTLE  Prince  Louis  of  France  had  often  heard 
1  the  story  of  the  wonderful  saint  of  Assisi, 
St.  Francis,  whom  all  loved,  men,  women, 
children,  animals  and  birds.  Best  of  all  he  liked 
to  hear  the  story  of  St.  Francis  and  the  birds 
which  he  had  heard  again  and  again.  His  Queen 
Mother  taught  him  what  the  good  St.  Francis  said 
to  the  birds,  and  of  how,  when  he  walked  in  the 
fields  and  the  woods,  birds  of  every  kind  would  fly 
around  him  and  alight  upon  his  shoulders,  his  arms 
and  his  feet,  filling  the  air  with  their  songs:  and  the 
little  boy  would  say  to  himself,  "I  will  be  like  the 
good  St.  Francis  when  I  grow  up!"  Then  came  the 
time  of  the  Saint's  death  about  the  same  time  that 
the  Prince's  father  died,  in  1226,  and  little  Louis  and 
his  Queen  Mother,  Blanche  of  Castile,  were  very  sad 
indeed,  for  Louis  VIII  had  been  a  good  father, 
husband  and  king. 

"My  son,"  said  the  Queen  to  her  little  boy,  "thy 
father  died  in  camp  on  his  way  home  from  subduing 
his  unruly  vassals  in  the  south;  well  did  he  know, 
when  the  fever  attacked  him,  that  he  could  never 
reach  Paris,  so  he  called  to  his  side  the  bishops  and 
nobles  in  his  following.  By  thy  father's  bedside  they 
knelt  and  under  oath  promised  to  be  true  and  loyal 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE  55 

to  thee,  his  eldest  son,  and  to  support  me,  the  Queen, 
who  will  guide  thee  until  thou  shalt  become  a  man. 
Now  has  come  the  time,  my  son,  for  thee  to  be 
crowned  that  all  may  know  that  thou  hast  taken 
thy  father's  place  and  art  king,  to  whom  thy  nobles 
and  thy  people  shall  give  support." 

On  the  twenty-ninth  of  November,  in  1226,  came 
the  summons  for  the  nobles  of  the  land  to  appear  at 
Rheims,  that  city  to  which  Joan  of  Arc,  two  hundred 
years  later,  led  her  king  to  be  crowned.  There  in 
the  Cathedral  little  Louis  watched  all  alone  the  night 
of  the  twenty-eighth  of  November,  even  until  dawn, 
before  he  took  the  oath  of  knighthood.  His  thoughts 
were  filled  with  dreams  of  the  brave  deeds  he  would 
do  as  a  knight  and  a  king,  when,  with  his  sword  held 
upright,  he  knelt  before  the  altar  upon  which  his 
armor  was  placed.  The  next  day  he  was  crowned 
Louis  IX,  King  of  France,  amid  the  cheers  of  his 
people  and  their  promises  of  loyalty. 

Back  then  to  court  went  the  new  little  king  and 
every  day  he  was  taught  by  his  Queen  Mother  some- 
thing about  kingship  and  the  needs  of  his  people. 
He  was  not  the  only  boy  at  court  for  besides  his 
younger  brothers  there  were  many  pages,  the  sons  of 
nobles,  who  were  sent  there  to  be  taught  how  to 


56  THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 

serve  and  how  to  conduct  themselves,  and  all  those 
accomplishments  a  knight  should  know,  for  one  day 
they,  too,  hoped  to  become  brave  knights.  Queen 
Blanche  was  not  any  more  lenient  with  her  own  son 
than  with  the  pages  intrusted  to  her  care. 

"Thou  must  not  be  idle,"  she  would  say  to  them, 
"but  be  diligent  at  thy  Latin,  for  knights  and  kings, 
as  well  as  priests,  should  be  able  to  read  the  Latin 
books.  Pay  attention  to  thy  conduct  as  well  as  to 
thy  learning,  and  give  no  heed  to  those  who  flatter 
thee  to  thy  face,  for  remember  that  behind  thy  back 
they  may  speak  thee  ill." 

So  the  days  went  by  and  little  Louis  was  brought 
up  to  be  good  and  honorable  as  well  as  to  know 
how  to  conduct  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom.  When  he 
was  fifteen  years  old,  he  was  old  enough  to  be  mar- 
ried, so  everyone  then  thought.  Who  should  it  be, 
questioned  Queen  Blanche  to  herself,  until  at  last 
she  decided  upon  Margaret,  the  eldest  daughter  of 
the  Count  of  Provence,  a  fourteen-year-old  girl,  of 
good  looks  and  manners,  and,  like  herself,  of  Spanish 
descent.  A  great  feast  was  held  in  her  honor  and 
she  was  met  by  the  little  king  clad  in  a  blue  satin 
tunic,  and  an  ermine-lined  mantle.  Great  was  the 
rejoicing  throughout  the  court  and  little  Margaret 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE  57 


BLANCHE  OF  CASTILE  PRESIDING  OVER  THE  EDUCATION  OF 

ST.  LOUIS 

By  A.  Cabanel.    Paris,  Pantheon. 

She  taught  him  to  rule  his  people  with  justice  and  with  kindness;  and  she  taught 
him  to  be  good  like  the  beloved  St.  Francis. 


58  THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 

was  crowned  queen  directly  a^ter  her  marriage,  and  all 
the  people  loved  and  praised  their  little  rulers.  Al- 
though they  were  ever  guided  by  the  Queen  Mother, 
and  were  very  busy  with  affairs  at  court  and  the 
control  of  the  government,  yet  they  were  still  a  boy 
and  girl  in  many  ways,  and  sometimes  the  little  king 
would  say,  "I  would  take  thee  on  a  hunting  party, 
Margaret,  to  get  away  from  all  these  cares  and  rules," 
and  then  the  little  queen  would  put  on  a  fine  bro- 
caded dress,  and  with  her  pet  falcon  on  her  wrist, 
would  join  King  Louis  on  horseback,  and  away  they 
would  gallop,  with  their  favorite  dogs  barking  in 
excitement  at  their  horses'  heels. 

Then  came  the  day,  when  Louis  was  eighteen  years 
old,  that  after  an  expedition  against  the  King  of 
England  it  so  happened  that  he  fell  very  ill  in  Paris. 

"My  son  must  not  die!"  cried  his  mother,  who  had 
been  told  that  little  more  could  be  done  for  him. 
"If  he  may  only  live  I  promise  that  he  shall  journey 
to  save  the  Holy  Sepulchre  at  Jerusalem!" 

"I,  too,  promise  it,  if  only  my  husband  shall  not 
die!"  sobbed  the  little  Margaret  as  she  fell  on  her 
knees  by  his  side. 

"Thy  son  breathes  no  longer,"  said  one  of  the  bishops 
softly  as  he  gently  led  the  mother  and  wife  away. 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE  59 

Then,  according  to  Louis's  faithful  friend  and 
chronicler,  Sire  de  Joinville,  one  of  the  ladies  who 
remained  within  the  room  cried  out,  "The  King 
breathes  and  still  lives!"  Whereupon  those  watching 
saw  that  he  did  indeed  live,  and  as  soon  as  he  could 
speak  he  sent  for  the  cross.  Quickly  did  his  mother 
and  wife  hasten  to  his  bedside,  filled  with  joy  that 
Louis  lived,  but  the  Queen  Mother  grieved  at  the 
thought  of  the  vow  she  had  made. 

Just  as  soon  as  he  was  able  did  King  Louis  start 
preparations  for  the  great  Crusade.  At  Christmas 
time,  according  to  custom,  he  presented  to  his  cour- 
tiers beautiful  mantles,  richly  embroidered.  In  the 
great  hall  of  the  castle  the  celebration  took  place. 
High  was  the  ceiling,  and  the  light  came  from  torches 
fastened  upon  the  walls,  giving  out  uncertain  light 
though  enough  for  the  gold  and  the  silver  to  be  seen. 

"How  generous  is  our  King,  and  how  beautiful 
his  gifts!"  cried  the  gay  and  thoughtless  young 
courtiers,  who  cared  much  for  splendor  but  who  had 
not  volunteered  to  go  with  their  King  on  his  Crusade. 
They  proudly  drew  over  their  shoulders  the  glittering 
robes  and  watched  them  shimmer  and  sparkle  in  the 
torch-light.  But  great  was  their  consternation  the 
next  morning  when  each  one  found  embroidered  upon 


60 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 


his  shoulder  a  red  cross,  the  sign  of  the  crusader,  and 
they  knew  that  they  were  thus  summoned  to  ac- 
company their  king! 

After  two  years  all  was  in  readiness :  Queen  Blanche 


THE  CRUSADERS  LANDING  AT  DAMIETTA,  EGYPT 

From  a  16th  century  wood-cut.    Milan,  Ambrosiana  Library. 
See  the  armor,  the  banners  and  the  strange  ships. 

was  once  again  to  take  charge  of  affairs  and  the  King 
felt  sure  that  all  would  be  well. 

"I,  too,  shall  accompany  thee  on  thy  quest," 
Queen  Margaret  bravely  insisted,  so  in  1248  the 
King  and  Queen  with  all  their  following  of  Crusaders 
sailed  for  Cyprus,  and  from  there  to  Damietta  in 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE  61 

Egypt,  which  land  they  hoped  to  subdue  first,  since 
by  the  orders  of  the  Sultan  of  Egypt  a  great  multi- 
tude of  Asiatic  tribes  had  besieged  Jerusalem. 

"Are  you  ready?"  cried  the  master  mariner,  and 
"Aye,  aye,  sir!"  sang  out  the  seamen's  voices:  where- 
upon the  master  mariner  shouted,  '"Unfurl  the  sails, 
for  God's  sake!"  Then  the  wind  filled  out  the  sails 
and  away  the  ships  sped,  far  away  from  the  shore, 
for  many  days  with  only  sky  and  sea  in  view. 

Long  is  the  story  told  by  Sire  de  Joinville  of  the 
expedition;  how  after  one  victory  in  Egypt  they  were 
overcome  on  every  hand,  and  how  in  addition  to  all 
their  hardships  a  plague  broke  out.  As  Saint  Francis 
had  tended  the  sick,  so  then  did  Saint  Louis,  until  he 
himself  fell  ill.  Great  was  the  suffering  and  awful 
the  famine  which  followed  when  the  Saracens  cut  off 
all  means  of  getting  supplies,  for  they  lay  between 
the  French  army  and  the  town  of  Damietta  where 
were  their  provisions. 

"Jerusalem  shall  be  yours  if  you  will  leave  your 
king  with  us  and  give  up  Damietta!"  came  the 
message  from  the  Saracen  camp.  "That  shall  never 
be!"  returned  the  horrified  nobles,  though  there  were 
some  in  the  French  army  who  would  have  been 
willing  to  agree.  "Our  king  shall  be  sent  with  the 


6£    THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 

rest  of  the  sick  down  the  Nile  by  boat,"  said  the 
generals  of  the  army,  "for  we  would  rather  that  the 
Saracens  should  take  us  all,  dead  or  alive,  than  'bear 
the  reproach  of  having  left  the  King  in  pledge!" 

But  King  Louis  refused  to  leave  his  people:  "Never 
will   I  abandon  you,"   he   cried,   "never  so  long  as 


MESSENGERS  OF  THE  SULTAN 

From  a  13th  century  miniature.    England:  formerly  in  the  National  Library  of 
Paris. 

I  live:  it  is  I  who  am  responsible  for  the  expedition, 
and  for  the  lives  of  my  soldiers,  and  we  return  or 
die  together!" 

So  the  French  army,  sick  from  the  plague  and  weak 
from  want  of  food,  began  the  retreat,  but  were  over- 
taken by  the  Saracens  and  forced  to  surrender. 

"Do  what  thou  canst  to  procure  the  ransom," 
sent  word  the  King  to  his  Queen  at  Damietta,  "for 
all  shall  be  set  free,  both  rich  and  poor  alike!" 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 


His  brave  wife,  though  filled  with  dismay  at  the 
news  of  her  husband's  capture,  lost  no  time  in  idle 
mourning,  but  raised  the  ransom  and  added  to  the 
force  in  defense  of 
the  city  some  Pisan 
and  Genoese  soldiers. 

"Save  us  from  the 
Saracens,  I  pray 
thee,"  she  begged  of 
the  knight  who  was 
guarding  her,  for  she 
feared  to  fall  in  their 
hands.  But  it  so 
fell  that  the  city  of 
Damietta  was  not 
given  over  to  the 
enemy  and  the  brave 
Queen  was  saved 


ST.    LOUIS    AND   HJS   TWO   BROTHERS 
MADE  PRISONERS  BY  THE  SARACENS 

From  a  16th  century  wood-cut.    Milan,  Am- 
brosiana  Library. 


with  her  little  new-born  son,  and  they  sailed  for  Acre, 
for  the  Crusaders  did  not  go  back  to  France  after 
they  were  released,  but  kept  on  for  the  Holy  Land. 
'"I  will  by  no  means  abandon -the  Kingdom  of  Jeru- 
salem, which  I  came  hither  to  guard  and  reconquer,' " 
vowed  the  King. 

For  four  years  they  stayed  in  the  Holy  Land,  and 


64  THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 

I.. 

refortified  the  seaport  towns  which  the  Saracens  had 
destroyed.  Although  the  Sultan  would  allow  Louis 
to  visit  Jerusalem,  the  latter  refused,  giving  as  his 
reason  that  of  Richard  the  Lion-Hearted  in  the  Third 
Crusade:  that  if  he,  "the  greatest  Christian  King, 
went  on  pilgrimage  without  delivering  the  city  from 
God's  enemies,  then  would  all  other  kings  and  pil- 
grims, coming  thereafter,  rest  content  with  going  on 
pilgrimage  after  the  same  manner  as  the  King  of 
France,  and  give  no  thought  to  the  deliverance  of 
Jerusalem." 

The  news  of  his  mother's  death  made  Louis  feel 
that  France  needed  him,  so  he  started  homeward  at 
Easter  time,  in  1254.  No  easy  journey  had  they, 
says  Sire  de  Joinville,  for  on  the  Saturday  when  they 
came  in  sight  of  Cyprus,  a  great  mist  spread  from 
the  sea  to  the  land,  keeping  the  sailors  from  knowing 
the  nearness  of  the  shore,  so  that  the  ship  in  which 
sailed  the  King  and  Queen  struck  a  reef  of  sand  and 
damaged  her  keel,  and  a  great  cry  arose  of  "Alas!  we 
drown!"  Though  the  master  mariners  implored  the 
King  to  embark  in  another  ship  he  once  more  refused 
to  leave  his  people.  "Neither  gold  nor  silver,'"  said 
they,  "'can  be  set  against  your  person  and  the  per- 
sons of  your  wife  and  children  who  are  here;  there- 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE     65 

fore  we  advise  you  not  to  put  yourself  or  them  in 
danger."  Thereupon  answered  the  good  King  Louis, 
"'Lords,  I  have  heard  your  opinion,  and  that  of  my 
people;  and  now  I  will  tell  you  mine,  which  is  this: 
if  I  leave  the  ship,  there  are  in  her  five  hundred 
people  and  more  who  will  land  in  this  isle  of  Cy- 
prus, .  .  .  and  these  peradventure,  will  never  return 
to  their  own  land.  Therefore  I  like  better  to  place 
my  own  person,  and  my  wife,  and  my  children  in 
God's  hands  than  do  this  harm  to  the  many  people 
who  are  here." 

So  on  they  sailed  in  the  damaged  ship  until  they 
came  in  sight  of  an  island  inhabited  by  Saracens. 
"Oh  Sire,"  cried  the  Queen  delightedly,  "wonderful 
fruit  trees  are  growing  on  this  island,  and  I  beg  of 
thee  that  thou  wilt  send  some  of  thy  servants  to 
procure  a  portion  of  fruit  for  thy  children,  who  have 
long  been  wanting  some."  Thereupon  the  King  con- 
sented, for  he  could  not  bear  to  disappoint  her,  and 
the  three  galleys  which  were  sent  entered  a  little  port 
on  the  side. 

"Alas!  the  Saracens  have  captured  thy  servants!" 
mourned  the  mariners  after  they  had  waited  long  for 
them  to  return;  "but  we  advise  thee  to  sail  forward 
and  wait  no  longer." 


66  THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 

i« 

"'I  shall  not  listen  to  you/"  cried  the  King,  "'and 
leave  my  people  in  the  hands  of  the  Saracens  without 
at  least  doing  all  in  my  power  to  deliver  them." 

"Alas,  oh  Sire!"  cried  Margaret  as  she  stood  on 
the  deck  and  looked  off  over  the  water  towards  the 
island  whither  the  galleys  had  been  sent  at  her  re- 
quest. "Mine  is  the  blame  and  we  must  not  sail 
away  and  leave  them!" 

Just  as  they  had  turned  the  sails  of  the  ships,  the 
galleys  were  sighted  coming  from  the  island. 

"Why  have  ye  tarried  and  so  kept  us  waiting  in 
anxiety  for  your  lives?"  asked  the  King  sternly  when 
they  came  alongside. 

"Six  of  thy  servants  were  determined  to  remain  in 
the  gardens  eating  fruit,"  cried  the  mariners  angrily. 

Thereupon  the  King,  indignant  at  their  lack  of 
thought,  commanded  that  those  six  should  be  put 
"astern"  in  the  barge,  to  their  great  shame,  for  there 
it  was  that  murderers  and  thieves  were  placed. 

Yet  another  adventure  befell  them  before  they 
reached  land,  more  perilous  than  the  others.  "I 
would  retire  early,"  said  the  Queen  late  one  day, 
worn  out  by  excitement.  Accordingly  she  went  to 
her  cabin  with  one  of  her  maids,  who  carelessly  left 
the  Queen's  kerchief  which  she  had  worn  upon  her 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 


67 


head,  near  to  a  candle  which  was  burning.  The 
kerchief  caught  fire  from  the  flame  of  the  candle,  and 
from  that,  the  bed.  Queen  Margaret  awakened  to 
see  her  cabin  in  flames,  but  with  the  same  presence 

of  mind  which  had  served  her    K , 

throughout  the  long  voyage, 
she  flung  the  burning  kerchief 
into  the  sea  and  crushed  the 
flame  of  the  sheets  in  her  hands. 
At  length  Louis  reached 
France,  still  filled  with  longing 
for  the  Holy  Land  but  know- 
ing that  he  must  take  up  once 
more  the  cares  of  state:  yet  he 
was  unwilling  to  live  in  luxury 
at  the  court  while  the  Holy 
City  of  Jerusalem  still  remained 
in  the  hands  of  the  Saracens. 
Therefore,  never  again  did  he  array  himself  in 
the  fur  of  the  beaver  or  gray  squirrel,  nor  in  scar- 
let nor  gilded  spurs,  but  dressed  very  soberly.  He 
ate  what  was  set  before  him  and  he  always  caused 
food  and  money  to  be  given  to  the  poor.  Law  and 
order  he  tried  to  establish  throughout  his  country, 
and  he  was  a  friend  to  all  his  people.  Often  he  would 


Courtesy  of  the 
Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

IVORY  CHESSMAN 

French,  13th  century. 
We  will  say,   for  our  story, 
that  this  is  St.  Louis. 


68  THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 

t, 

go  into  a  neighboring  wood  and  lean  against  an  oak 
tree,  bidding  his  people  gather  about  him.  "'Is  there 
anyone  who  has  a  cause  in  hand?'"  he  would  ask. 
Then  would  he  hear  each  one  in  turn  and  he  would 
settle  each  affair  with  justice.  He  was  an  eager  col- 
lector of  books  and  he  welcomed  every  scholar  who 
came  to  his  court.  The  great  cathedrals  were  being 
built  throughout  France  and  he  watched  their  growth 
with  interest.  Especially  fond  was  he  of  his  children, 
and  he  would  call  to  their  minds  the  lives  of  great 
and  good  men,  saying,  "Of  such  men  as  these  take 
example." 

Then  came  another  call  from  the  Holy  Land  for 
a  Ninth  Crusade  and  Saint  Louis,  whose  heart  was 
already  there,  responded.  All  France  was  sad  when 
their  king,  his  three  eldest  sons,  and  a  following  of 
nobles,  citizens  and  barons  again  publicly  took  the 
Cross. 

"I  shall  never  see  thee  again!"  cried  Queen  Mar- 
garet as  he  bade  her  farewell,  for  she  knew  how  weak 
and  worn  he  was,  and  unable  to  stand  more  hard- 
ships. 

Driven  by  a  terrible  storm  to  Sardinia,  they  turned 
aside  to  Tunis,  and  encamped  in  the  ruins  of  Carth- 
age, where  once  more  occurred  the  terrible  misfortune 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE  69 

which  had  overtaken  them  at  Damietta.  A  severe 
sickness  broke  out,  and  the  King  was  stricken.  Then 
King  Louis,  feeling  that  he  had  not  long  to  live, 
called  his  eldest  son,  Philip,  to  his  side,  and  bade 
him  observe  all  the  teachings  he  had  taught. 

"The  first  thing  I  would  teach  thee  is  to  set  thine 
heart  to  love  God;  .  .  .  Keep  thyself  from  doing 
aught  that  is  displeasing  to  God,  .  .  . 

"'Let  thy  heart  be  tender  and  full  of  pity  towards 
those  who  are  poor,  miserable  and  afflicted;  and  com- 
fort and  help  them  to  the  utmost  of  thy  power. 
Maintain  the  good  customs  of  thy  realm,  and  abolish 
the  bad.  .  .  . 

"'Beware  of  undertaking  a  war  against  any  Chris- 
tian prince  without  great  deliberation;  and  if  it  has 
to  be  undertaken,  see  that  thou  do  no  hurt  to  the 
Holy  Church,  and  to  those  who  have  done  thee  no 
injury.  If  wars  and  dissensions  arise  among  thy 
subjects,  see  that  thou  appease  them  as  soon  as 
thou  art  able,  .  .  .  '" 

'"A  piteous  thing,  and  worthy  of  tears,  is  the  death 
of  this  saintly  prince  who  kept  and  guarded  his  realm 
so  holily  and  loyally/"  wrote  the  Sire  de  Joinville, 
"'and  like  as  the  scribe  who,  writing  his  book,  il- 
luminates it  with  gold  and  azure,  so  did  the  said  king 


70 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE 


illuminate  his  realm."      With  Saint  Louis  died  the 
religious  side  of  the  Crusades. 

Although  the  Crusades  had  failed  in  the  freeing  of 
the  Holy  Land,  yet  they  helped  the  world's  progress, 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

PARCHMENT  SHOWING  THE  CRUSADE  OF  ST.  LOUIS 

French,  16th  century. 

You  can  see  the  River  Nile  with  its  many  mouths,  the  fortifications  of  Damietta, 
the  tents  of  the  soldiers,  and  the  queer,  high  ships. 

for  the  Crusaders  brought  back  from  the  learned  men 
of  the  East  some  of  their  wonderful  knowledge.  The 
Crusades  opened  up  commerce  between  the  East  and 
the  West;  great  writers  sprang  up  to  commemorate 


THE  TALE  OF  A  GREAT  CRUSADE  71 

the  Holy  Wars  and  the  wonderful  adventures  of  the 
Crusaders;  and  there  were  kept  alive  the  high  ideals 
of  honor  and  chivalry  and  the  hope  of  getting  beyond 
and  above  personal  and  selfish  ambitions,  and  men 
turned  their  thoughts  away  from  fighting  to  art  and 
literature,  and  to  new  discoveries  in  learning. 

The  quotations  are  from  Sir  Frank  Marzial's  translation  of 
the  Memoirs  of  the  Crusades  by  Villehardouin  and  De  Joinville. 


A  BUDDHA  STORY:  OR,  THE  TALE  OF  A  WON- 
DERFUL PRINCE 

In  India,  when  a  baby  is  born,  everyone  is  very  eager  to  know 
whether  it  is  a  boy  or  a  girl.  If  it  is  a  boy  all  are  glad,  but  if  it 
is  a  girl,  they  are  sad,  for  it  means  to  them  that  the  gods  are 
angry,  and  the  father  knows  that  the  day  she  is  married  he  will 
have  to  pay  a  great  sum  to  her  husband.  The  Indian  mothers 
and  fathers  are  never  proud  of  their  little  daughters  as  our 
mothers  and  fathers  are,  and  the  girls  are  kept  in  the  background, 
yet  they  play  together  while  they  are  growing  up,  and  have  many 
happy  times. 

Indian  boys  love  to  fly  their  square  kites,  blue  and  green,  and 
often  they  climb  on  to  the  flat  roofs  of  two  houses  near  each 
other,  and  high  up  above  the  trees  soar  their  kites.  Sometimes 
the  children  listen  while  snake  charmers  play  weird  music  so 
that  the  snakes  glide  to  them  and  are  shut  up  in  baskets;  and 
sometimes  they  watch  a  sparrow  which  has  been  taught  to  climb 
upon  a  string  held  in  the  air,  and  to  thread  beads  on  to  the  string. 
If  a  boy  lives  near  a  jungle  he  will  see  the  taming  of  a  herd  of 
elephants,  or  the  netting  of  tigers.  Many  of  the  children  now 
go  to  schools  that  are  much  like  our  own,  but  in  far-away  villages 
the  master  still  sits  on  the  ground  under  a  big  tree,  with  his 
scholars  around  him.  They  sway  back  and  forth  as  they  sing 
out  their  lessons,  or  bend  over  the  sandy  ground  to  trace  the  out- 
lines of  the  letters  as  they  shout  out  the  names  of  them. 

Everywhere  in  the  streets  of  India  is  a  great  deal  of  color. 

72 


THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE       73 


The  people  wear  robes  and  turbans  of  every  shade — black,  white, 
red,  yellow,  green,  purple — and  as  the  crowds  hurry  to  and  fro 


( "S^*^  r- 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

FIGHTING  ELEPHANTS 

Miniature  from  an  Indian  manuscript,  17th  century. 

These  elephants  are  being  watched  by  the  great  Emperor,  Shah  Akbar,  and  the 
artist  who  made  the  picture  knew  how  to  make  them  look  real.  Notice  the  beautiful 
border  all  done  by  hand  with  great  care  and  skill.  When  you  see  the  picture  itself 
you  will  see  gold  lines  in  the  border. 

and  the  colors  mingle,  they  give  almost  the  effect  of  an  endless 
rainbow.    The  bazaars  add  to  this  wonderful  coloring:  a  bazaar 


74       THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE 

u 

is  where  the  tiny,  open  shops  are,  and  all  day  long  people  visit 
them  to  buy  and  sell.  People  of  every  color — white,  brown, 
black,  yellow — jostle  one  another  in  the  crowded,  narrow  streets. 
Let  us  suppose  that  we  have  been  busy  all  day  seeing  these 
wonderful  sights  of  the  cities  in  India,  and  towards  night  have 
been  carried  by  our  elephants  through  the  gay  streets,  between 
the  rows  of  shops  and  balconied  houses,  out  into  an  Indian 
village,  with  its  small  huts  of  mud  walls  and  thatched  roofs. 
The  women  of  the  village  are  returning  from  the  well,  and  the 
men  from  the  grain  fields.  We  have  stopped  before  one  of  the 
larger  houses,  and  soon  take  our  rugs  and  blankets  up  on  the 
flat  roof  where  we  can  see  the  stars  which  seem  so  close  to  us, 
and  as  we  lie  there  gazing  up  into  that  soft  and  bright  Indian 
evening  sky,  we  will  listen  to  the  story  of  the  village  storyteller. 


IN  the  north  of  India  near  the  lofty  Himalayas 
with  their  snowy  peaks,  there  once  lived,  over 
twenty-four  hundred  years  ago,  a  just  and  kind 
king  called  Suddhodana  and  his  noble  queen  named 
Maya.  They  had  a  little  son  called  Siddartha,  and 
great  was  the  rejoicing  in  the  palace,  for  the  wise 
men  had  foretold  that  the  little  new  prince  should 
have  all  the  gifts  of  perfect  kingship.  A  great  festival 
was  held  in  the  royal  city  in  honor  of  the  birth  of 
the  prince,  and  many  guests  came  with  rich  gifts  on 
trays  of  gold  and  of  silver.  Among  them  was  a  white- 
haired  holy  man,  very  wise  and  very  good.  When  he 


THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE       75 

saw  the  little  boy  he  said  slowly,  "  'Thou  shalt  preach 
the  Law  and  save  all  men  who  learn  the  Law." 

Every  tenderness  was  shown  the  little  boy  and 
when  he  grew  old  enough,  the  king  called  a  council 
of  his  wisest  men  to  decide  who  should  have  charge 
of  his  son's  education.  An  exceedingly  wise  man, 
who  was  well  acquainted  with  learning  and  all  the 
wise  books,  was  selected,  and  he  came  to  the  palace 
to  live:  but  what  was  his  astonishment  to  find  that 
his  little  pupil  was  beyond  any  instruction  he  might 
give  him.  "I  can  count  the  grains  in  the  finest  dust, 
I  can  number  the  stars  which  shine  in  the  sky  at 
night,  and  count  the  drops  of  rain  that  fall!"  said 
little  Siddartha,  softly. 

"Thou  art  the  teacher  of  thy  teachers,  oh  wonder- 
ful Prince!"  said  the  wise  man  and  went  his  way. 
Then  was  Prince  Siddartha  given  into  the  charge  of 
men  skilled  in  the  chase  and  in  chariot-racing.  He, 
too,  became  very  skillful,  though  in  the  hunt  be 
would  often  stop  when  the  chase  was  hottest  to  let 
the  deer  go  free.  As  he  grew  older,  he  watched  the 
country  folk  at  their  work  and  play,  the  birds  and 
animals  in  the  woods,  and  all  seemed  bright  and 
happy.  But  the  boy  Siddartha  saw  more  deeply 
into  the  heart  of  things  than  even  his  wise  and  good 


76       THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE 


father.  He  saw  that  the  laborers  had  to  work  far 
beyond  their  strength  to  make  a  living,  and  these 
things  filled  his  heart  with  pity  and  with  sorrow. 

He  thought  and  thought 
about  them  until  the 
King,  noticing  his  sad- 
ness, called  together  his 
wise  men  to  ask  their 
advice. 

"Seek  a  wife  for  him," 
said  one  of  them.  "He 
will  forget  his  sorrow  in 
her  grace  and  beauty. 
Prepare  a  festival  and 
summon  to  it  the  fair- 
est maidens  in  northern 
India,  and  see  if  one 
of  them  does  not  please 
him." 

Accordingly  a  great 
festival  was  proclaimed, 
and  there  came  beautiful 
maidens  with  their  dark  hair  braided,  and  they  were 
dressed  in  brilliant  robes,  with  their  toes  and  finger-tips 
stained  with  crimson  dye.  To  the  great  despair  of  the 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

HEAD  OF  BUDDHA 

Made  by  an  Indian  sculptor,  in  the  9th 
century  A.  D. 

This  is  the  Prince  Siddartha,  the  great 
teacher. 


THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE       77 

King  and  all  the  wise  men,  however,  the  Prince  showed 
little  interest  in  the  maidens,  and  they  were  about  to 
give  up  their  plan,  when  the  last  of  those  invited  drew 
near.  Her  name  was  Yas6dhara,  and  the  Prince  started 
with  surprise  when  he  saw  her.  She  was  dressed  in  cool 
green  robes  of  the  softest  silk,  and  she  gleamed  with 
jewels  and  gold  ornaments:  a  girdle  of  rose  with  silken 
tassles  encircled  her  waist  and  fell  to  her  feet  in  front. 
Her  long  black  hair  was  crowned  with  bands  of  jewels, 
red  and  green,  and  her  arms  shone  with  bracelets  of 
gold  inlaid  with  precious  stones.  But  most  beautiful 
of  all  was  her  face,  and  she  threw  back  her  shimmer- 
ing veil,  smiled  upon  the  Prince  and  asked,  "Is  there 
a  gift  for  me?"  Now  all  the  gifts  which  had  been 
prepared  were  already  bestowed  upon  the  other 
maidens,  but  the  Prince  unfastened  an  emerald  neck- 
lace which  he  wore  about  his  throat  and  clasped  it 
around  her  waist,  and  he  rejoiced  that  he  had  found 
a  maiden  who  would  be  with  him  in  his  work  and  his 
play. 

The  King  was  much  delighted  at  the  success  of  his 
plan  and  sent  messengers  to  the  father  of  Yasodhara 
to  ask  the  hand  of  his  daughter  in  marriage  to  his 
son.  "It  is  customary,"  answered  the  father  of  the 
maiden,  "that  the  suitor  shall  first  prove  his  skill  in 


78       THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE 

u 

the  arts  of  war.  Let  thy  son  show  his  strength  in 
the  bending  of  the  bow;  let  him  wield  the  sword  and 
ride  a  horse  better  than  the  other  suitors  who  have 
already  sought  my  child  in  marriage.  He  must  prove 
himself  the  most  worthy  of  all!" 

It  was  thereupon  announced  that  seven  days  later 
the  Prince  Siddartha  would  meet  all  those  who  wished 
to  match  their  skill  against  his,  in  order  to  win  the 
beautiful  Yasodhara.  On  the  appointed  day  the 
suitors  gathered,  and  among  them  was  the  Prince 
upon  his  great  white  horse,  and  as  he  rode  along  his 
eyes  fell  upon  the  crowds  of  common  folk  who  had 
gathered  to  see  the  contest,  and  he  thought,  "If  all 
these  people,  like  kings  and  nobles,  have  their  joys 
and  their  ambitions,  they  are  little  thought  of  or 
helped  by  the  rest  of  us."  Then  he  saw  Yasodhara, 
and  he  leapt  to  the  ground  and  cried: 

"He  is  not  worthy  of  this  great  prize  who  is  not 
the  worthiest;  let  my  rivals  prove  whether  I  have 
dared  too  much  in  seeking  her!" 

Then  three  of  the  suitors  shot  with  their  arrows 
so  far  and  so  true  that  the  Princess  lowered  her 
golden  veil  so  that  she  might  not  see  if  the  Prince 
should  fail.  But  Prince  Siddartha  ordered  his  target 
to  be  set  at  such  a  distance  that  it  could  scarcely  be 


THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE       79 

seen,  and  he  took  up  his  strong  bow  as  black  as 
ebony,  which  he  had  brought  from  the  temple  and 
no  one  had  been  able  to  bend.  Fitting  an  arrow, 
he  sent  it  through  the  air  as  swift  as  thought  itself. 
And  behold!  it  reached  the  distant  target,  pierced  it 
through,  and  flew  along  the  plain  for  a  great  distance 
before  it  came  to  rest. 

Then  came  the  contest  with  the  swords,  and  the 
suitors,  undaunted,  showed  wonderful  skill,  but  Prince 
Sidd&rtha  surpassed  them  all.  Finally,  all  was  in 
readiness  for  the  race,  when  one  of  the  suitors  said, 
"These  steeds  are  tame!  Bring  forward  an  untamed 
horse,  one  fit  for  the  test!"  So  they  brought  forward 
a  fierce-eyed  horse  which  had  never  been  ridden,  and 
which  was  guarded  by  three  strong  chains.  One  by 
one  the  rivals  of  Siddartha  tried  to  ride  the  impatient 
horse,  but  each  one  was  thrown  and  scarcely  escaped 
alive.  Then  the  Prince  stepped  forward,  and  taking 
the  horse  by  the  forelock,  spoke  a  gentle  word  into 
its  quivering  ear,  and  stroked  its  neck  and  sides;  and 
so  great  a  love  and  understanding  did  he  have  for  the 
horse,  that  the  horse  responded  and  soon  stood  quite 
calm  and  subdued  and  allowed  the  Prince  to  mount 
him  and  ride  quietly  away.  Then  all  the  people  cried, 
"'Strive  no  more,  for  Siddartha  is  the  best.'" 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

i 

HUNTING  SCENE 

A  miniature  from  an  Indian  manuscript,  16th  century. 

If  you  could  see  this  in  color  you  would  at  once  notice  the  dark  foliage  of  the 
trees  against  which  the  figures  stand  out.  The  Indian  artists  loved  to  paint  hunting 
scenes  with  people  on  horseback,  and  they  made  their  pictures  much  more  real  and 
natural  than  the  Persian  artists  did. 


THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE       81 

A  great  shout  rose  from  the  spectators,  and  the 
father  of  the  Princess  praised  the  victor.  At  his 
bidding,  Yasodhara  slowly  and  gracefully  advanced 
to  meet  the  Prince  who  stood  by  the  side  of  the  great 
black  horse.  She  bowed  before  Prince  Siddartha  and 
placed  a  garland  of  fragrant  flowers  around  his  neck. 
The  Prince,  filled  with  joy,  took  the  maiden  by  the 
hand  and  they  passed  slowly  through  the  great  crowd 
who  rejoiced  and  sang  songs  in  their  honor. 

After  the  magnificent  wedding  feast,  Prince  Sid- 
dArtha  took  his  bride  to  a  beautiful  pavilion  which 
the  King  had  caused  to  be  erected  at  the  foot  of  the 
snowy  Himalayas.  It  was  set  in  the  midst  of  a  great 
garden,  with  wonderful  flowers,  roses  and  lemon 
blossoms  sweetening  the  air,  fountains,  and  walks 
shaded  by  trees  in  which  sang  many  birds.  The 
pavilion  itself  was  of  marble,  white  and  shining  and 
beautifully  carved,  with  great  domes  and  stately 
minarets  against  the  dark  blue  of  the  sky.  It  was 
ornamented  with  lustered  tiles  of  marvelous  colors, 
and  inlaid  \vith  designs  made  of  carnelian,  jasper,  and 
other  precious  stones,  and  tracery  work  of  carved 
flowers  and  birds. 

Every  effort  was  made  to  surround  the  Prince  and 
Princess  with  all  that  was  bright  and  pleasant,  and 


m       THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE 

*• 

the  King  gave  orders  that  no  mention  should  be  made 
before  them  of  sorrow  or  of  pain.  Each  morning  the 
dying  roses  were  plucked  from  the  bushes,  and  the 
withered  leaves  carefully  hidden.  "Let  no  sign  of 
sadness  nor  decay  come  to  the  Prince  and  Princess 
to  give  them  sorrow!"  commanded  the  King,  and  he 
had  a  great  wall  built  around  the  pavilion  and  garden, 
and  a  second  and  a  third  wall,  giving  this  order  to 
his  guards:  "Let  no  man  from  the  outside  world  pass 
this  triple  wall,  that  the  Prince  may  become  the  king 
of  kings,  and  see  nothing  but  what  is  bright  and 
beautiful!" 

For  many  days  the  Prince  and  Princess  were  very 
happy,  and  undisturbed  by  the  troubles  of  the  out- 
side world.  They  spent  their  days  surrounded  by 
joyous  people,  and  fragrant  flowers,  and  listening  to 
the  sweet  music  of  the  breezes  among  the  trees. 
Often,  however,  the  young  Prince  would  have  a  far- 
away look  in  his  eyes,  and  one  day  he  gave  orders 
for  his  chariot  to  be  prepared,  that  he  might  go  forth 
and  see  the  world.  The  King  safeguarded  his  son  by 
having  this  proclamation  read  in  the  streets  of  the 
royal  city:  "Hear,  ye  citizens!  It  is  the  king's  com- 
mand that  during  this  day  there  shall  be  seen  in  the 
city  no  unhappiness:  no  blind,  sick,  sorrowful  nor 


THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE       83 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art 

ILLUSTRATION  OF  AN  INDO-PERSIAN  POEM 

17th  century,  by  a  court  painter. 

Let  us  say  that  it  shows  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  our  story  in  the  Garden  of 
the  Palace  of  Pleasure. 


84       THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE 

aged  person!  Let  the  streets  be  perfumed  and  gay 
flowers  strewn  before  your  houses,  and  let  the  trees 
be  decked  with  flags!" 

The  royal  commands  were  at  once  obeyed,  and 
when  the  Prince  and  Princess  drove  forth  in  the  great 
gilded  chariot  drawn  by  two  white  oxen,  the  people 
welcomed  them  with  shouts  of  joy,  and  children  threw 
roses  and  rich  orange-blossoms  into  the  passing 
chariot.  On  every  side  was  beauty  and  brightness, 
and  the  Prince  cried,  "The  world  outside  my  palace 
is  beautiful  after  all,  and  the  people  happy!"  Hardly 
had  he  finished  speaking,  when  an  old  and  ill-clad 
man  crept  from  a  hovel  by  the  roadside,  and  in  pain 
and  suffering  made  his  way  towards  the  chariot  of  the 
Prince.  In  vain  the  people,  remembering  the  orders 
of  the  King,  tried  to  keep  him  back,  but  the  Prince 
caught  sight  of  him  and  asked  one  of  his  attendants: 

"Is  the  world  filled  with  people  like  this?"  "Even 
so,  oh  Prince,"  answered  the  man  sadly.  "Shall  we 
who  are  young  and  happy  come  at  last  to  be  old  and 
weak?"  asked  the  Prince.  "It  shall  be  so  indeed,"  was 
the  reply.  "Then  drive  me  home  again,"  said  the  Prince, 
and  there  was  a  wistful  far-away  look  in  his  eyes  which 
was  reflected  in  the  dark  eyes  of  his  beautiful  bride. 

In  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  the  joyous  attendants 


THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE       85 

in  the  high-walled  Palace  of  Pleasure,  there  was  no 
more  happiness  for  the  Prince  and  Princess  that  day: 
and  a  few  days  later  he  started  out  with  his  bride  to 
see  the  city  as  it  usually  looked.  "I  wish  to  know 
my  people  in  their  daily  lives  and  find  out  how  people 
live  who  are  neither  kings  nor  princes,"  he  said.  The 
old  King  sadly  gave  his  consent,  so  on  the  next  day  the 
Prince  and  Princess  in  disguise  went  on  foot  into  the 
city,  and  mingled  with  the  crowds  in  the  busy  streets. 
They  saw  the  open  shops  and  the  traders  sitting 
cross-legged  among  their  wares,  and  the  buyers  driv- 
ing their  bargains.  They  heard  the  shouts  to  clear 
the  narrow  streets  when  some  wealthy  person  rode 
by  on  an  elephant,  or  a  closed  litter  was  borne  quickly 
past.  They  saw  a  mother  carrying  water  from  the 
well,  followed  by  her  black-eyed  children.  There  was 
a  weaver  of  carpets  and  rugs  busy  at  his  loom, 
a  woman  grinding  corn,  a  tailor  busily  plying  his 
needle,  a  school  in  which  the  children  were  seated 
round  the  teacher  chanting  their  lessons.  There  were 
maidens  carrying  great  baskets  of  fruit  balanced  on 
their  heads  and  travelers  from  far-off  lands.  Then 
as  they  passed,  they  heard  a  mournful  voice  crying, 
"Help,  masters!  lift  me  to  my  feet;  help!"  They 
looked  down  and  saw  a  poor  man  stricken  with  the 


86       THE  TALE  OF  A  WONDERFUL  PRINCE  . 

plague,  and  the  Prince  ran  forward  and  tried  to  help 
him.  His  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  said  to  his  bride: 
"At  last  I  understand.  We  are  like  all  others,  sub- 
ject to  sickness  and  to  sorrow,  and  we,  too,  must  grow 
old.  We  must  help  those  less  fortunate  than  we." 

Many  were  the  hours,  then,  that  the  Prince  and 
Princess  spent  in  thinking,  and  at  last  they  decided 
that  they  would  leave  their  wonderful  palace  with 
its  flower-filled  gardens,  its  joyous  attendants,  and 
go  out  into  the  world  and  take  a  part  in  righting  the 
wrongs  of  the  poorer  people  and  in  relieving  their 
burdens.  "Help  us  to  help  all  living  creatures!" 
they  cried.  So  they  went  forth  from  the  Palace  of 
Pleasure  and  learned  to  know  their  people  and  the 
people  loved  them  in  return:  and  Prince  Siddartha 
became  a  great  teacher,  Buddha,  who  taught  his 
people  to  be  happy.  Then  one  day  they  returned  to 
the  palace,  wiser  and  better  rulers  than  they  had 
been,  for  they  had  learned  that  friendliness  and  love 
make  faithful  friends  and  they  did  what  they  could 
for  those  in  their  kingdom,  knowing  them  all,  rejoic- 
ing in  their  pleasures  and  softening  their  sorrows  by 
their  sympathy  and  kindness. 

Adapted  from  Sir  Edwin  Arnold's  "  Light  of  Asia  "  and  Richard 
Wilson's  "  Indian  Story  Book." 


AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO 

Years  and  years  ago,  before  people  knew  how  to  print,  the 
few  books  which  were  made  were  written  by  hand  and  it  took 
a  very  long  time  to  do  it;  so  only  a  few  could  have*  them.  The 
only  way  most  of  the  people  could  read  their  favorite  Bible 
stories  was  to  read  them  in  color,  as  they  were  painted  on  the 
walls  of  the  churches  by  the  artists  who  lived  at  the  time.  The 
men,  the  women,  and  the  children  would  often  go  into  the  beauti- 
ful churches  to  read  these  pictured  stories  and  to  pray  before 
their  especial  saints.  These  pictures  were  not  painted  in  oil  or 
water-color  and  hung  upon  the  walls,  framed,  but  they  were 
painted  on  the  walls  themselves  or  on  wooden  panels  covered 
with  plaster,  and  the  background  was  covered  with  a  thin  layer 
of  gold  leaf.  The  sky  was  not  blue  as  we  see  it,  but  gold,  and 
everything  was  stiff  and  unreal.  But  a  man  who  was  born  in 
1182,  seven  hundred  and  thirty-six  years  ago,  changed  not  only 
the  lives  of  the  people  but  the  subjects  of  the  painted  pictures, 
making  them  become  more  human  and  real,  and  not  done  so 
much  by  rule  and  according  to  a  set  pattern. 

We  all  know  about  St.  Francis  who  was  born  in  Assisi  and 
who  went  about  preaching  charity  to  one's  neighbors,  obedience, 
and  the  sharing  of  one's  goods  with  the  poor.  He  loved  everyone, 
all  men  from  the  king  to  the  poorest  person  in  the  kingdom. 
He  loved  animals  and  birds,  too,  and  they  loved  him. 

"  When  St.  Francis  spake  words  to  them,  the  birds  began  all 
of  them  to  open  their  beaks  and  spread  their  wings  and  reverently 
bend  their  heads  down  to  the  ground,  and  by  their  acts  and  by 

87 


88      AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO 

u 

their  songs  did  showfliat  the  holy  Father  gave  them  joy  exceeding 
great." 

Then  after  St.  Francis  died9  his  followers  built  churches  and 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

ALTARPIECE 

By  a  Sienese  artist  of  the  15th  century. 

The  Sienese  school  of  the  Italian  painters  cared  a  great  deal  about  the  telling  of 
the  story,  about  color  and  decoration,  but  not  about  making  things  look  real. 
They  made  the  sky  of  gold  instead  of  blue  as  it  really  is,  and  you  will  see  from  this 
picture  that  the  people  are  not  like  real  people  with  forms  underneath  the  clothing, 
but  look  like  figures  cut  out  of  paper.  The  Florentine  school  of  the  Italian  painters, 
however,  did  study  the  human  form  itself  and  made  their  pictures  just  as  real  and 
natural  as  they  could. 

upon  the  wet  plaster  of  the  walls,  artists  painted  pictures  of  his 
life.     One  of  the  scenes  they  loved  to  picture  was  that  of  St. 


AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO      89 

Francis  with  the  birds,  and  to  do  this,  the  artists  could  not  fol- 
low the  rules  which  had  been  laid  down  for  so  many  years  about 
the  figures  in  the  Holy  Pictures,  but  they  had  to  look  at  real  birds 
before  they  painted  them.  So  in  this  way  their  pictures  began 
to  be  much  more  real  and  human.  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  now, 
about  Giotto,  a  painter  of  this  time  who  made  very  real  and  vivid 
pictures  of  the  life  of  St.  Francis  on  the  walls  of  the  church  which 
his  followers  built  in  his  memory  at  Assisi. 


THOU  art  old  enough  to  take  my  sheep  to  pas- 
ture and  tend  them,"  one  day  long  ago  said 
a  shepherd,  Bondone  by  name,  in  Vespignano, 
a  little  village  about  fourteen  miles  from  the  famous 
city  of  Florence  in  Italy.  He  was  talking  to  his 
ten-year-old  boy,  Giotto,  who  was  lying  in  the 
cool,  long  grass  brightened  here  and  there  with  gay 
flowers.  Straight  up  at  the  soft  summer  sky  the  boy 
was  gazing  and  as  he  watched  the  delicate,  veil-like 
clouds  flying  past  and  listened  to  the  bird  music,  he 
dreamed  and  dreamed  all  about  the  big  city  of  Florence 
of  which  he  had  heard  but  never  seen,  and  about  the 
names  of  the  great  men  who  managed  the  affairs  of  the 
city,  and  above  all  of  the  painters  who  made  beautiful 
pictures.  But  his  father's  voice  brought  him  back 
from  his  dreams,  and  he  jumped  to  his  feet  at  once, 
answering: 


90      AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO 

"I  am  ten  years  old,  my  father,  and  can  well  tend 
thy  sheep  for  thee,  and  I  like  to  go  with  them  up  on 
the  hills  all  covered  with  greens  and  browns  and 
yellows,  and  I  like  to  lie  under  the  olive-trees  and 
think.  Father,  dost  think  that  the  great  Giovanni 
Cimabue  will  stay  long  in  Florence?" 

"He  comes  to  paint  the  Blessed  Virgin  with  the 
Holy  Child  in  her  arms  in  the  abbey  of  the  Santa 
Trinita,  and  I  doubt  that  he  has  the  time  to  stay 
longer  in  the  city,  than  to  finish  the  picture,  my  lad: 
but  why  dost  thou  ask?" 

"Oh  my  father,"  cried  the  boy,  his  eyes  flashing, 
"if  only  I,  too,  could  paint  pictures  for  the  church! 
Dost  think  if  I  wish  for  it  hard  enough,  it  will  come 
true?" 

"Thy  duty  now  is  to  care  for  my  sheep,  Giotto  my 
son,"  answered  his  father,  looking  at  him  rather 
strangely,  for  the  boy  had  queer  notions  in  his  head 
and  was  not  content  to  play  with  the  other  peasant 
boys  after  his  work  was  done  but  was  always  found 
with  his  piece  of  sharp  stone  which  served  him  as 
a  pencil  and  with  which  he  would  draw  trees  and 
flowers  and  sheep  on  the  smooth  surface  of  a  rock, 
or  he.  would  mark  pictures  on  the  earth  or  sand. 

"Yes,  father,"  answered  Giotto  obediently,  giving 


AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO       91 

him  a  bright  smile,  for  he  was  a  sunny  lad  even  if 
he  did  have  queer  notions  compared  with  the  other 
village  boys. 

So  away  he  went  following  his  sheep  on  the  hill- 
sides wherever  the  grass  was  good  to  feed  upon. 
When  they  had  found  an  especially  good  place  Giotto 
sat  down  beneath  the  silver  leaves  of  a  great  olive 
tree  and  watched  the  sheep  feasting  upon  the  grass. 
He  sat  there  idly,  dreamily,  for  a  few  moments,  then 
he  jumped  to  his  feet  and  hurried  to  a  great  rock 
a  little  distance  away,  one  side  of  which  was  smooth. 
From  his  pocket  he  drew  out  a  little  sharp  stone, 
his  pencil,  and  looked  about  him  eagerly.  "Which 
shall  it  be  to-day,  little  piece  of  stone,  a  flower,  a  tree 
or  the  clouds  in  the  sky?  I  know!  I  have  it!  I  shall 
draw  one  of  my  sheep,  that  nice  fleecy  one  over  there, 
right  in  front  of  me  having  such  a  good  time  munch- 
ing the  grass!" 

With  quick,  skilful  marks  with  his  sharp  stone, 
Giotto  drew  his  favorite  sheep  on  the  rock,  and  so 
absorbed  was  he  in  his  work  that  he  did  not  notice 
that  someone  was  leaning  over  him,  for  the  footsteps 
of  the  stranger  had  been  muffled  in  the  soft  grass. 

"Who  art  thou,  boy,  and  what  art  thou  doing?" 
asked  a  strange  voice  suddenly,  close  to  Giotto's  ear. 


92      AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO 

h 

The  boy  jumped  to  his  feet,  the  little  stone  falling 
from  his  fingers  in  his  amazement.  "I  am  Giotto," 
he  cried,  with  flushed  cheeks,  "Giotto  Bondone  who 
lives  in  that  cottage  in  the  little  village  below  the 
hills,  and  I  am  making  a  picture  of  one  of  my  father's 
sheep." 

"So  I  have  seen,"  answered  the  tall  stranger, 
smiling.  "But  who  taught  thee?  What  painter  is 
there  here  on  these  hillsides  to  give  thee  lessons  and 
why  dost  thou  not  draw  with  a  pencil  on  paper?" 

"No  one  has  given  me  lessons,  Sire,"  answered  the 
boy,  embarrassed  that  a  -stranger  should  see  his  draw- 
ings. "While  I  am  here  on  the  hillsides,  I  just  draw 
what  I  see  about  me,  sometimes  the  birds  and  the 
flowers  and  the  trees,  and  sometimes,  as  to-day,  the 
sheep;  and  there  is  no  one  here  in  Vespignano  to 
teach  me  and  I  have  no  paper  and  pencils.  Dost 
thou  come  from  the  great  city  of  Florence  and  hast 
thou,  perchance,  seen  one  of  the  beautiful  pictures 
painted  by  the  great  Master  Cimabue?" 

"I  have,  my  lad,  for  I  am  Giovanni  Cimabue, 
whom  thou  art  pleased  to  call  'great.'  Turn  not 
away,  boy,"  for  Giotto,  covered  with  confusion  that 
the  great  painter  of  whom  all  Florence  was  talking 
had  seen  his  rough  attempts  at  drawing,  had  started 


AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO      93 

to  run  away.  'Thou  hast  a  fine  eye  and  hand  and 
wilt  become  a  painter  thyself,  with  training.  Wouldst 
thou  like  to  go  to  Florence  with  me  and  study  how 
to  paint?" 

"With  thee,  the  great  Master?"  cried  Giotto, 
scarcely  able  to  believe  his  own  ears.  "If  only  I 
might!  But  my  father  is  old  and  needs  me  and 
I  know  not  if  he  will  wish  me  to  go." 

"Let  us  find  him  and  tell  him  of  our  plan,"  said 
the  painter,  and  down  the  hillside  they  went  together, 
following  the  sheep,  until  they  came  to  the  little 
cottage. 

"He  is  a  good  lad,"  answered  Bondone  gravely, 
"a  good  lad  and  a  bright  one.  I  should  miss  his  help 
should  he  go,  but  more  than  that  his  laughter  and  his 
merry  ways,  but  if  thou  art  ready  to  take  him  with 
thee  and  teach  him,  I  would  not  stand  in  his  way,  for 
he  has  ever  wished  to  paint." 

So  it  was  arranged,  and  one  day  Giotto  started  out 
from  the  little  village  in  the  company  of  the  master. 
There  were  other  men  in  attendance  on  the  painter, 
for  he  was  far-famed  and  honored.  Trumpets  sounded 
as  the  little  procession  left  the  village  and  all  the 
people  gathered  to  see  them  go.  Giotto  himself,  the 
little  peasant  boy,  rode  on  a  beautiful  horse,  seated 


94      AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO  t 

on  a  saddle  inlaid  with  patterns  of  gold,  and  all 
around  him  fluttered  banners  and  plumes. 

"  God  keep  thee,  my  son,  and  teach  thee  what  thou 
wouldst  learn!"  cried  Giotto's  old  father,  as  he  waved 
him  farewell. 

To  Giotto,  the  shepherd-boy,  Cimabue's  workshop 
was  a  marvelous  place,  full  of  all  sorts  of  surprises. 
He  had  to  work  hard  and  it  was  not  always — and 
indeed  not  for  a  long  time — at  drawing  or  painting 
such  as  he  wished  to  learn,  but  at  all  sorts  of  odd 
jobs.  "There  is  much  hard  work  and  a  great  amount 
of  patience  required  before  thou  canst  become 
a  painter,"  the  master  would  often  say  to  the  boys 
who  worked  as  apprentices  in  his  workshop.  "The 
floors  must  be  swept,  colors  must  be  prepared,  brushes 
cleaned,  and  cartoons  pricked,  but  sometime  will 
come  the  opportunity  to  arrange  the  colors  on  my 
palette  and  copy  my  drawings,"  Cimabue  would  say, 
and  always  they  could  watch  and  study  how  the 
master  painted.  Then,  whoever  was  found  worthy 
would  be  given  parts  of  the  real  painting  to  do, 
draperies  and  portions  of  backgrounds  and  at  last 
whole  pictures  under  the  master's  directions. 

One  day  Cimabue  was  suddenly  called  away  from 
his  workshop,  leaving  on  his  easel  an  unfinished  figure. 


AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO       95 

Giotto  was  busy  on  a  drawing  at  which  the  master 
had  set  him,  but  each  time  he  looked  up,  the  face  of 
the  figure  on  the  canvas  met  his  eyes,  and  the  wet 
paint  glistened  on  the  rather  prominent  nose.  Giotto's 
eyes  began  to  twinkle:  "That  nose  will  not  let  me 
work  in  peace  until  I  have  put  upon  it  an  ornament," 
he  chuckled.  Accordingly  he  took  one  of  the  brushes 
which  Cimabue  had  thrown  down  as  he  hurried  away, 
and  deftly  painted  a  fly  right  on  the  tip  of  the  nose! 
It  was  a  very  life-like  fly,  so  much  so  that  you  could 
almost  hear  it  buzz!  When  the  master  returned,  he 
hurriedly  took  up  his  brushes,  eager  to  finish  his 
picture.  He  raised  his  hand  to  paint,  and  then  ex- 
claimed impatiently,  "Thou  bothersome  fly,  get  thou 
away  from  this  fresh  paint,"  and  he  tried  to  brush  it 
away,  believing  it  was  real.  'Thou  mischievous 
boy,"  he  cried  when  he  found  out  how  he  had  been 
deceived,  "dost  thou  thus  spend  thy  moments  when 
I  am  not  here  to  watch  thee?  But  I  cannot  scold 
thee,  my  lad,  for  it  has  well  shown  thy  skill  in  paint- 
ing. See  what  thou  canst  do  at  painting  a  picture 
by  thyself." 

Thi^s  was  just  what  Giotto  had  been  longing  to 
do  and  he  scarcely  breathed  until  the  picture  was 
finished;  and  behold,  instead  of  the  stiff  figure  of 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

THE  VISIT  OF  THE  MAGI 

By  the  School  of  Giotto. 

In  this  picture  a  follower  of  Giotto,  the  first  of  the  Florentine  painters,  is  trying 
to  get  away  from  the  old  stiff  rules  and  make  the  people  and  the  landscape  look 
natural.  The  sky  is  still  of  gold  but  he  has  tried  to  make  a  landscape  background 
for  his  figures  although  he  is  not  very  skilful  at  it  yet,  and  the  high  rock  doesn't 
look  off  in  the  distance  as  he  meant  it  to  be.  But  he  has  made  real  forms  so  that 
they  look  like  real  people,  and  the  folds  in  the  draperies  hang  as  they  naturally 
would  in  big  folds  following  the  figure  beneath,  and  not  in  many  meaningless  lines 
such  as  the  Sienese  artists  made. 


AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO       97 

a  Madonna  and  a  baby  looking  like  a  little  old  man, 
such  as  the  people  were  accustomed  to  see  in  their 
holy  pictures,  there  was  a  real  mother  and  a  real 
baby!  Giotto  looked  at  the  mothers  and  babies  he 
saw  in  Florence,  at  the  houses  and  the  trees,  and  he 
tried  to  paint  from  nature  just  what  he  saw  instead 
of  copying  the  unreal  figures  which  the  artists  before 
him  had  made  according  to  set  rules. 

To  us  his  pictures  look  very  queer,  but  they  were 
the  beginning  of  all  the  beautiful,  life-like  pictures 
which  have  come  after  them.  "It  is  wonderful!"  the 
people  of  Florence  said  as  they  stood  spell-bound 
before  his  work,  and  mothers  brought  their  babies  to 
see  the  pictures.  Children  peered  delightedly  into  the 
workshop  to  see  the  pictures  of  real  animals  which 
were  not  like  queer  little  figures  cut  out  of  paper  with 
no  form  at  all,  as  they  had  been  when  painted  by  the 
artists  before  him,  who  never  studied  real  people  and 
animals  but  had  copied  the  stiff,  unreal  figures  of  the 
artists  before  them. 

Not  only  did  Giotto  decorate  the  fair  city  of 
Florence  with  wonderfully  painted  pictures  and 
marble  ones — for  he  was  a  sculptor  and  architect  as 
well  as  a  painter,  and  built  the  beautiful  bell-tower 
reaching  far  up  into  the  sky  and  skilfully  decorated — 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

ST.  CHRISTOPHER 


AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO       99 

but  he  worked  in   other  cities,   Padua,   Rome,   and 
Assisi,  a  city  of  Umbria. 

"Thou  must  decorate  our  church  of  St.  Francis," 
said  Fra  Giovanni  di  Muro  who  invited  him  to  Assisi; 
and  "Hail  to  Giotto  Bondone,  the  beloved  painter  of 
the  Florentines!"  cried  the  people  who  had  gathered 
to  welcome  the  artist  to  their  city.  Now  Giotto 
dearly  loved  the  story  of  the  life  of  the  good  St. 
Francis,  and  right  gladly  did  he  and  Cimabue  deco- 
rate the  church  with  many  pictures.  All  about 
St.  Francis  he  wrote  in  color  so  that  the  people  who 
visited  the  church  could  read  the  story  just  as  easily 
as  from  a  book,  and  to  them  the  pictures  took  the 
place  of  printed  stories.  Giotto  was  very  fond  of 
animals  and  birds:  he  remembered  his  early  life  upon 
the  hills  of  Vespignano  where  he  used  to  sit  and 
watch  his  father's  sheep  and  the  birds  flitting  across 
the  cloud-swept  sky,  so  he  took  great  delight  in 
painting  the  picture  of  "St.  Francis  Preaching  to  the 
Birds."  He  pictured  the  Saint  as  he  said  to  the  birds 
which  had  gathered  around  him,  *  Birds,  my  brothers, 
you  ought  to  praise  your  Creator  much,  who  clothed 
you  in  plumes,  and  gave  you  feathers  for  flying,  who 
granted  to  you  the  purity  of  the  air,  and  without 
anxiety  of  yours  directs  you.'  Very  tenderly  did 


100    AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO 


Giotto  tell  this  story  in  colors,  and  the  figure  of 
St.  Francis  bending  over  his  friends,  the  birds,  is 
made  to  show  his  love  and  sympathy  for  them;  and 

just  as  full  of  tenderness 
and  reality  are  the  pic- 
tures of  the  Madonna 
and  Child  upon  which 
he  worked  in  the  Arena 
Chapel  at  Padua:  and 
those  of  the  two  chapels 
in  the  Franciscan  Church 
of  Santa  Croce  in  Flor- 
ence where  once  more 
he  told  the  story  of  the 
Saint  of  Assisi. 

Finally  the  Pope,  hav- 
ing heard  so  much  about 
this  great  painter  who 
had  once  been  a  shep- 


ST.  FRANCIS  PREACHING  TO  THE 
BIRDS 


Part  of  an  altarpiece  in  the  Louvre  at 
Paris,  and  said  to  have  been  painted  by 

The  birds  are  flying  all  around  St.  Fran-  herd  boy  but  who  had 
cis  and  Giotto  has  made  them  look  like  fa^  become  Very  fa- 
real  birds  and  has  put  a  real  tree  in  the  pic- 

ture and  made  St.  Francis  and  his  com-     H1OUS,    Sent   a    messenger 
panion  look  like  real  men. 


^    Florence    ^    find 

what  manner  of  man  he  might  be.     "Seek  out  this 
Giotto  of  whom  all  are  talking,"  instructed  the  Pope, 


AN  EARLY  ITALIAN,  PAINTER:  GIOTTO     101 

"and  get  him  to  give  thee  some  of  his  designs  that  I 
may  compare  them  with  those  of  other  artists  and  dis- 
cover for  myself  in  what  way  he  differs  from  them." 
Accordingly  the  messenger,  on  his  way  to  Florence, 
visited  artists  in  Siena  and  obtained  designs  from 
them  and  when  he  reached  Florence  he  set  out  in  all 
haste  to  the  workshop  of  Giotto  of  whom  he  had 
heard  so  much. 

"My  master,  His  Holiness,  desires  to  have  painted 
the  walls  of  the  Church  of  St.  Peter  at  Rome,"  an- 
nounced the  messenger,  "and  he  has  asked  me  to  take 
back  to  him  designs  from  our  well-known  painters. 
Wilt  thou  not  give  to  me  one  of  thy  drawings  that 
I  may  present  it  to  His  Holiness?" 

"Right  willingly,"  answered  Giotto  courteously, 
though  if  the  messenger  had  been  watching  very 
closely,  he  might  have  seen  a  twinkle  in  the  painter's 
eyes  and  noticed  that  a  little  smile  hovered  upon  his 
lips.  Giotto  at  once  took  a  sheet  of  paper  and  a  pen- 
cil which  he  dipped  in  red  color,  and  then,  forming 
a  compass  by  resting  his  elbow  on  his  side,  he  drew 
a  very  perfect  and  complete  circle.  :<Take  this  to 
His  Holiness,"  he  said,  smiling  and  holding  the  paper 
out  to  the  messenger.  "Nothing  but  this?"  the 
latter  questioned,  disappointed,  for  he  had  expected 


102    AN  EARLY  ITALIAN  PAINTER:  GIOTTO 

an  elaborate  drawing  from  the  great  Giotto.  "That 
is  all,"  answered  Giotto  quietly,  returning  to  his 
work.  What  was  the  messenger's  amazement  when 
he  returned  all  the  designs  to  the  Pope,  among  them 
Giotto's  circle,  telling  him  how  it  had  been  made 
without  the  aid  of  compasses,  to  hear  the  Pope  and 
courtiers  say,  "This  Giotto  has  far  surpassed  all 
others!" 

The  round  "O"  of  Giotto  became  a  proverb  with 
the  people  of  that  time,  and  when  anything  was  very 
round  indeed  they  would  say,  "As  round  as  the  O  of 
Giotto,"  and  the  Pope  invited  Giotto  to  Rome  where 
he  was  given  every  honor  and  where  he  painted  an 
altarpiece  and  several  other  pictures  in  the  Church 
of  St.  Peter,  to  the  great  delight  of  all  the  people. 

So  all  through  his  life  Giotto  made  the  cities  in 
which  he  worked  more  beautiful  by  his  art  and  made 
his  pictures  seem  real  and  human,  pleasing  the  people 
far  better  than  the  stiff  and  unnatural  ones  of  other 
painters;  and  those  who  came  after  him  kept  on  try- 
ing to  make  their  pictures  real  and  vivid,  and  well- 
arranged,  keeping  in  mind  what  the  "Father  of 
Italian  Painting,"  Giotto,  had  taught  them.  . 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO 

The  wonderful  old  city  of  Florence,  in  Italy,  was  governed 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  by  eight  magistrates,  called  Priori.  They 
held  their  office  for  two  months  at  a  time,  after  which  others  were 
elected  in  their  places.  Each  of  these  magistrates  had  a  trade 
and  belonged  to  one  of  the  guilds  of  tradesmen,  for  Florence  al- 
ways encouraged  her  people  to  learn  trades  as  well  as  the  arts. 
It  was  natural  that  some  of  these  merchants  should  become  very 
rich  and  powerful,  and  of  course  there  was  jealousy  among 
them,  and  there  were  many  parties  in  the  city  hostile  to  one 
another.  There  was  the  famous  Medici  family  who  were  at 
first  bankers  but  who  were  later  Grand  Dukes  of  Florence,  and 
this  great  family  encouraged  the  writers  and  the  painters  of  the 
time,  the  architects  and  the  sculptors. 

It  was  in  the  13th  century  that  the  dignified  men  who  ruled 
over  Florence  suddenly  realized  that  Pisa,  Siena,  and  other 
neighboring  towns  were  building  great  churches  and  cathedrals 
to  beautify  their  cities,  while  their  own  city,  though  larger,  was 
behind  in  this.  There  was  always  rivalry  among  them,  so  the 
people  of  Florence  lost  no  time  in  making  their  city  more  splen- 
did. Great  fortress-like  palaces,  cathedrals  and  churches  were 
built  by  skilful  workmen,  and  often  the  builders  were  painters 
and  sculptors,  besides,  so  that  they  could  decorate  the  insides  of 
the  buildings,  too. 

You  have  heard  a  story  about  the  great  painter  Giotto  who 
made  wonderful  pictures  on  the  walls  of  churches  which  served 
the  common  people  instead  of  books,  for  at  that  time  they  could 

103 


104     A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO  , 

not  read,  but  all  could  understand  and  enjoy  these  beautiful 
sacred  stories.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  now  about  another  great 
artist  who  lived  in  Florence,  later  than  Giotto,  Michelangelo, 
a  wonderful  sculptor  and  painter  who  rose  far  above  most  men 
and  whose  works,  like  organ  music,  thrill  one  with  their  grandeur 
and  power. 

HE  shall  be  named  Michelangelo,"  said  Lodo- 
vico  Buonnarroti  one  Sunday  morning  four 
hundred  and  forty-four  years  ago,  for  in  the 
little  house  among  the  mountains  at  Caprese  a  son 
had  been  born  the  night  before  and  the  proud  and 
happy  father,  Lodovico,  was  much  excited. 

"He  will  become  a  great  man!"  he  said  to  the 
baby's  nineteen-year-old  mother.  "We  shall  live  to 
be  proud  of  him,  Francesca  mia,  for  late  last  night 
the  stars  in  the  heavens,  Mercury  and  Venus,  were 
wondrously  bright  and  shining  and  favorable  in  their 
omens.  And,  Francesca,  Ascanio  and  Torrigiano,  our 
wise  men,  declare  that  there  is  in  one  born  at  that 
time  something  divine  and  unusual  and  that  to  him 
will  be  a  great  career;  so  Michelangelo  shall  be  his 
name,  after  our  great  Archangel  Michael!" 

"He  shall  be  brought  up  near  the  great  city  of 
Florence,"  murmured  his  mother:  for  Lodovico's 
office  of  mayor  came  to  an  end  just  then  and  he  took 


A  GREAT  SCULFPOR:  MICHELANGELO     105 

his  little  wife  and  two  children  to  Settignano,  a  vil- 
lage about  three  miles  from  the  great  city.  There  on 
a  farm  they  lived  and  the  little  Michelangelo  was 


MICHELANGELO 

From  the  portrait  in  the  Museum  of  the  Capitol,  Rome. 

often  cared  for  by  a  stone-cutter's  wife,  for  in  the 
village  were  many  stone-cutters  and  sculptors,  so 
rich  was  the  place  in  stone  quarries. 

What  fun   it   was  to   watch  the  chisels   and  the 


106     A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO 

hammers!  The  little  boy  used  to  sit  by  the  hour 
watching  the  stone-cutters  at  their  work.  "But  he 
must  go  to  school  and  not  waste  his  time  with  these 
people,"  his  anxious  mother  would  say:  so  one  day 
she  took  him  by  the  hand  and  said,'  "Come,  little 
son,  I  must  take  thee  to  the  place  of  learning  kept 
by  Messer  Francesco:  he  will  teach  thee  to  read  and 
to  write  and  to  understand  Latin."  But  the  days 
went  on  and  the  boy  found  that  he  did  not  care  half 
so  much  for  the  lessons  that  he  studied  in  school  as 
for  the  leisure  moments  when  he  was  free  to  busy 
himself  with  pencil  and  paper. 

"My  son  will  become  a  dunce!"  Lodovico  would 
angrily  exclaim.  "Behold,  he  does  nothing  but  make 
marks  upon  a  paper  and  but  yesterday  he  drew  on 
the  clean  walls  of  my  house  pictures  of  strange  looking 
animals  and  men!  I  fear  me  the  wise  men  knew  not 
of  what  they  talked  when  they  said  he  would  bring 
us  fame  and  honor!  Francesca,  the  boy  must  be 
taught!" 

"But  mother,"  Michelangelo  would  say  in  reply  to 
her  anxious  questions,  "Francesco  Granacci,  my 
friend  in  school,  has  already  entered  the  workshop  of 
Domenico  Ghirlandajo,  a  great  master  in  Florence,  to 
study  painting.  Oh  mother,  tell  father  that  I,  too, 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO     107 

can  draw  and  learn  to  paint,  and  Francesco  gives  me 
each  day  the  designs  which  the  master  gives  him, 
and  I  want  to  enter  the  studio,  too!" 

"Let  him  go,"  impatiently  agreed  Lodovico  at  last, 
several  years  later,  finding  that  he  could  not  keep 
his  son  from  drawing.  So  when  Michelangelo  was 
fourteen  years  old  his  father  placed  him  in  Ghir- 
landajo's  studio,  hoping  that  he  would  get  so  that 
he  could  contribute  towards  the  family  expenses,  for 
there  were  then  four  children  and  little  money. 

Michelangelo's  heart  sang  as  he  took  his  place  in 
the  workshop  of  the  master  with  Francesco  and  the 
other  boys  who  were  there  to  help  in  the  grinding  and 
mixing  of  colors  and  the  cleaning  of  brushes,  and  who 
would  thus  have  the  opportunity  to  watch  the  painter 
at  his  work  and  learn  from  him.  Many  easels  were 
there  and  canvases  and  beautiful  drawings  on  huge 
sheets  of  paper.  How  proud  he  was  the  first  time  the 
master  said,  "Michelangelo,  thou  mayst  help  me 
transfer  this  drawing  of  one  of  my  paintings  of  the 
life  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  to  the  wall  in  the  chapel  of 
Santa  Maria  Novella."  There  in  the  chapel  the  boys 
helped  their  master  all  they  could,  and  one  day  when 
Ghirlandajo  had  gone  out,  Michelangelo,  whose  fingers 
could  not  long  keep  from  handling  paper  and  pencil, 


108     A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO  u 

took  a  sheet  of  paper  and  with  rapid  strokes  drew 
the  scaffolding  upon  which  the  master  sat  as  he 
painted  his  beautiful  figures  upon  the  wall,  the  lad- 
ders, and  the  men  working  there,  helping.  Absorbed 
in  his  work,  he  did  not  hear  footsteps  behind  him 
until  he  felt  a  hand  laid  upon  his  shoulder  and  look- 
ing up,  saw  Ghirlandajo  himself  standing  behind  him. 

"'This  one  knows  more  of  it  than  I!'"  cried  the 
astonished  Ghirlandajo  turning  to  his  assistants.  "He 
shall  be  of  great  aid  to  me!"  So  wonderful  was  the 
boy's  gift  for  drawing  that  sometimes  he  would 
better  the  drawings  of  figures  made  even  by  the 
master,  until  Ghirlandajo  began  to  realize  that  he 
had  a  pupil  who  would  soon  surpass  him. 

In  Florence  at  this  time  was  a  member  of  the 
famous  Medici  family,  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  who 
helped  and  encouraged  all  artists  and  writers  and 
who  was  especially  fond  of  all  the  arts.  He  kept  in 
the  gardens  of  the  Medici  at  San  Marco  the  sculptor 
Bertoldo  as  guardian  of  the  many  beautiful  statues 
he  had  placed  there,  and  he  encouraged  students  to 
come  there  where  they  might  have  this  Bertoldo  for 
a  guide,  hoping  to  form  a  school  of  painters  and 
sculptors.  So  one  day  Lorenzo  honored  the  workshop 
of  Ghirlandajo  with  a  visit  and  asked  him,  "What 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO     109 

pupils  hast  thou,  Domenico,  whom  thou  wouldst 
select  as  most  worthy  to  come  to  my  gardens  for  the 
sake  of  study?  Those  whom  thou  shalt  select  will 
I  help  and  encourage,  that  Florence  may  bring  up 
great  artists  who  will  do  her  honor  in  later  years." 

"Michelangelo  and  Francesco  shall  go,"  answered 
Ghirlandajo,  "and  watch  well  the  first,  son  of  Lodo- 
vico  of  Settignano,  for  he  has  many  gifts." 

"What  fun  this  will  be,  Francesco,"  said  the  eager- 
eyed  Michelangelo  delightedly  as  they  entered  the 
garden  the  next  day.  "See,  there  is  a  youth  copying 
a  relief!  I  will  see  what  I  can  do!"  Thereupon  he 
set  to  work  to  copy  it  out  of  terra-cotta,  and  was 
busy  at  it  when  the  great  Lorenzo  appeared. 

"My  boy,  thou  art  skilful,  but  spend  not  thy  time 
at  this;  see  what  thou  canst  do  in  marble  at  copying 
this  head  of  an  old  faun,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  head 
with  a  beard  and  a  laughing  face  although  the  mouth 
was  so  marred  by  time  that  it  could  scarcely  be  seen. 

Michelangelo  set  quickly  to  work  and  such  a  mar- 
velous copy  did  he  make  in  a  few  days  that  Lorenzo 
was  amazed.  "Thou  hast  made  a  good  likeness  of 
the  laughing  mouth,"  he  said,  smiling,  "but  thy 
fancy  has  led  thee  astray  in  that  thou  hast  shown 
the  teeth  of  the  old  fellow:  'thou  shouldst  have  re- 


110     A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO 


membered  that  old  folks  never  retain  all  their  teeth, 
but  some  of  them  are  always  wanting!'" 

Michelangelo   thought   that  he   was   in   earnest   in 

what  he  said,  and  after 
Lorenzo  had  turned 
away,  he  hastily  broke 
out  a  tooth.  "Bravo, 
my  boy,"  cried  Lor- 
enzo, much  amused, 
upon  his  return,  "thou 
wilt  succeed,  I  know. 
I  shall  ask  thy  father 
to  intrust  thee  to  my 
care  for  I  will  look 
after  thee  as  my  own 
son." 

Lodovico      finally 
agreed  and  Michelan- 

, 
g^lO  Was  given  a  TOOm 

m     tne     palace    of     the 

Medici  where  he  met  many  people  of  rank  and  Lor- 
enzo's three  sons,  Piero,  Giuliano  and  Giovanni  who 
afterwards  became  Pope  Leo  the  Tenth.  For  several 
years  Michelangelo  lived  in  the  Palazzo  Medici,  where 
he  met  the  most  prominent  men  of  the  time  and  heard 


A  COPY  OF  MICHELANGELO'S  MASK 
OF  A  LAUGHING  FAUN 

Florence,  Bargello. 

See  where  Michelangelo  has  knocked  out 
some  of  the  teeth! 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO     111 

them  talk  about  the  great  preacher  of  Florence,  Sav- 
onarola, and  heard  his  inspiring  sermons  at  the 
Duomo.  He  learned  to  love  the  wonderful  Florentine 
poet,  Dante,  and  it  was  here  that  he  formed  his 
admiration  for  the  Bible  which  he  felt  all  his  life. 

Sometimes  he  would  go  with  other  young  artists  to 
the  little  chapel  of  the  Carmine  to  study  from  the 
great  wall  paintings  by  Masaccio,  the  wonderful 
painter  who  knew  how  to  make  all  his  figures  seem 
real  and  alive.  Often  he  would  copy  some  of  them, 
to  the  great  amazement  of  his  friends.  But  there  was 
one  fellow  student,  Torrigiano,  who  was  jealous  of 
his  success  and  one  day  he  became  angry  and  cried 
out,  "Thou  thinkest  that  thou  art  better  than  the 
rest  of  us!  Thou  boasting  fellow,  take  that!"  There- 
upon he  gave  him  a  resounding  blow  upon  the  nose 
with  his  closed  fist,  making  him  have  a  crooked  nose 
for  the  rest  of  his  life! 

When  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent  died  in  1492, 
Michelangelo  was  full  of  sorrow  over  the  death  of  the 
great  man  who  had  been  so  true  a  friend  to  him. 
Piero  de  Medici,  Lorenzo's  son,  was  far  different  from 
his  father  and  did  not  love  the  arts  as  he  had.  He 
thought  to  rule  the  affairs  of  Florence  as  his  father 
had  done,  but  he  was  weak  where  Lorenzo  had  been 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO 

b 

strong,  and  trouble  came  between  him  and  the 
Florentine  people.  But  before  the  storm  broke  and 
the  Medici  were  driven  from  the  city,  Michelangelo, 
warned  by  a  dream  as  he  said,  left  by  night  only 
a  few  weeks  before  Piero  and  his  brothers  fled  from 
the  city.  With  two  companions  he  traveled  to 
Venice,  Bologna  and  Rome,  ever  studying  the  works 
of  art  which  he  found  in  those  cities.  After  a  time, 
however,  he  said  to  himself,  "Once  more  I  wish  to 
return  to  my  city  of  Florence  where  I  may  see  the 
great  Tower  of  Giotto,  the  wonderful  palaces  with 
their  gardens,  and  the  olive  and  cypress  trees  on  the 
hills  beyond." 

So  after  his  year's  wandering  he  returned  to  Flor- 
ence. The  Medici  were  still  in  exile,  though  no  one 
treated  Michelangelo  ill  because  of  his  connection 
with  them.  "My  son,  my  son,"  said  his  old  father, 
receiving  him  with  open  arms,  "to  think  that  I  once 
opposed  thy  becoming  an  artist!  Full  of  pride  am 
I  now  at  the  great  works  that  thou  hast  made  and 
the  fame  which  thou  hast  won!" 

Then  one  day,  soon  after  his  return,  it  was  sug- 
gested to  him  that  he  try  to  carve  a  statue  out  of 
a  great  block  of  marble  which  for  thirty-five  years 
had  remained  in  the  Works  of  the  Cathedral  of 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO      113 

St.  Mary  of  the  Flowers.  Many  artists  had  tried  to 
make  something  out  of  it  but  had  failed.  "I  shall 
make  a  statue  of  David,"  Michelangelo  said,  "for 
just  as  David,  the  Hebrew  boy,  defended  and  saved 
his  people,  so  should  the  rulers  of  this  city  'defend  it 
with  courage  and  govern  it  uprightly."  Then  he 
made  a  little  wax  model  of  David  with  a  sling  in  his 
hand,  and  finally  carved  it  out  of  marble  and  it  was 
set  up  in  the  courtyard  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio. 
When  the  people  of  Florence  gathered  to  see  it,  great 
was  their  admiration:  white  and  shining  stood  the 
lad  in  the  brilliant  sunshine,  every  muscle  firm  and 
strong,  and  ready  to  send  forth  from  his  sling  the 
stone  which  would  slay  the  giant.  Strength  there 
was  in  every  part,  strength  of  body  and  of  face,  and 
everyone  marveled  at  the  work. 

"Greater  works  even  than  this  shall  he  do!"  the 
old  and  wise  men  of  the  city  cried,  "for  was  he  not 
born  under  the  most  favorable  of  stars?"  Greater 
things  he  did;  he  carved  holy  pictures  and  statues, 
prophets,  angels,  and  the  Madonna  and  Child.  Then 
a  second  time  he  visited  Rome  where  he  accomplished 
his  mightiest  works.  Julius  II  was  Pope,  broad- 
minded  and  ambitious  and  a  patron  of  the  arts.  Both 
he  and  Michelangelo  were,  impetuous,  energetic  and 


114     A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO 


ambitious,  filled  with  great  schemes,  and  it  was  this  pope 
who,  admiring  what  he  had  heard  of  Michelangelo, 

invited  him  to  Rome. 
"Thou  shalt  build  a 
monument  to  me,  a 
marvelous  tomb,"  the 
Pope  said,  "and  I  will 
watch  thee  daily  at 
thy  work."  Thereupon 
he  had  a  drawbridge 
built  joining  the  cor- 
ridor of  the  church 
and  the  artist's  studio 
in  the  Castello.  With 
his  usual  splendid  en- 
ergy Michelangelo  set 
to  work  planning  the 
great  pieces  of  sculp- 
ture which  were  to 
make  famous  the  life 


STATUE  OF  DAVID 
By  Michelangelo. 

Florence,  Accademia  diBelle  Arte.  Michel- 
angelo, who  belonged  to  the  Florentine  School 
of  artists  just  as  Giotto,  has  studied  the  hu- 


oi  artists  just  as  oiotto,  nas  siuuieu  me  iiu-          p     -r\  TV  j."L 

man  form  very  carefully  and  has  put  every      °f    Pope    JullUS    as    the 

bone  and  muscle  in  place.  source  of  freedom  f rom 

darkness  of  mind  and  of  spirit.  A  huge  statue  of 
Moses,  the  lawgiver,  he  made,  and  the  figures  of 
slaves  straining  and  struggling  to  be  free,  but  the 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO      115 

tomb  was  never  finished  although  Michelangelo  was 
trying  to  complete  it  for  forty  years.  Pope  Julius 
already  had  another  plan  in  mind,  the  painting  of  the 
ceiling  of  the  Sistine  Chapel  in  the  Vatican,  the  walls 
of  which  had  already  been  decorated  by  such  great 
Italian  painters  as  Botticelli,  Ghirlandajo  and  Peru- 
gino,  and  he  bade  Michelangelo  leave  off  working  on 
his  tomb  saying,  "It  is  a  bad  omen  to  work  on  one's 
tomb  during  his  lifetime  for  it  might  be  taken  as  an 
'invitation  to  death.'  Thou  shalt  paint  the  ceiling 
of  my  chapel  in  the  Vatican,  a  work  much  more 
glorious  for  thee  and  for  me." 

"Holy  Father,"  answered  Michelangelo,  "I  am 
a  sculptor  and  know  well  how  to  carve  figures  out  of 
stone  but  I  know  little  of  the  use  of  colors  in  painting, 
except  what  I  learned  of  mixing  colors  in  the  work- 
shop of  Ghirlandajo." 

"I  have  heard  much  about  thy  success  in  his 
service  and  of  how  thou  wert  wont  to  take  the  paper 
and  pencil  thyself  and  make  drawings  of  thy  com- 
rades as  well  as  correct  those  made  by  the  master, 
so  I  know  that  thou  art  well  able  to  do  the  work, 
an'  thou  wilt." 

So  Michelangelo  made  up  his  mind  to  do  it,  and 
when  once  he  had  determined  a  thing  he  let  nothing 


* 


co     o 

II 


.5  3 

II 
II 


CEILING  OF  THE  SISTINE  CHAPEL  IN  THE  VATICAN,  ROME 

Painted  by  Michelangelo. 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO      117 

stand  in  his  way.  A  high  scaffolding  he  had  erected 
and  on  it  he  worked,  lying  on  his  back,  for  he  was 
painting  on  the  ceiling  above.  "Truly  it  makes  my 
neck  ache  and  mine  eyes,"  he  would  say,  but  still  he 
would  keep  on  with  his  work,  alone  and  silent.  So 
many  days  did  he  paint  there  with  his  face  turned 
upwards  that  he  injured  his  eyes  so  that  for  several 
months  he  could  neither  read  letters  nor  look  at 
drawings.  Day  after  day  he  worked,  sleeping  and 
eating  little  and  sometimes  working  during  the  night, 
wearing  a  little  cap  of  paste-board  with  a  candle 
placed  in  the  center  to  give  him  light  and  yet  keep 
his  hands  free. 

"Art  thou  not  almost  finished?"  Pope  Julius  would 
impatiently  ask  again  and  again  as  he  watched  the 
figures  grow. 

"When  I  shall  have  done  all  that  I  can  to  make 
them  perfect,"  answered  Michelangelo  firmly. 

'We  command  that  you  satisfy  our  wish  to  have 
it  done  quickly,"'  returned  the  angry  Julius,  "else 
thou  shalt  be  thrown  headlong  from  the  scaffold!" 

So  at  last,  although  the  figures  were  not  yet 
finished,  Michelangelo  was  forced  to  uncover  them, 
so  impatient  had  the  Pope  become,  and  the  people 
of  Rome  thronged  to  see  the  great  frescoes.  "This 


118     A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO   -. 

Michelangelo  is  a  marvel,  a  giant!"  they  exclaimed. 
"Such  beauty  of  form  and  of  line  and  such  a  feeling 
of  strength  have  we  never  seen  before!" 


ATHLETIC  FIGURE  ON  THE  CEILING  OF  THE  SISTINE  CHAPEL  IN 
THE  VATICAN  AT  ROME 

By  Michelangelo. 

Here  is  one  of  the  marvelous  human  forms  which  Michelangelo  painted  looking 
almost  as  if  it  were  a  modeled  figure,  and  showing  the  perfection  and  beauty  of  the 
human  body. 

Marvelous  indeed  were  the  human  forms,  picturing 
God  the  Creator  making  the  world  and  the  first  man 
and  woman.  There  were,  too,  the  mysterious  figures 


A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO     119 

of  the  Sibyls  who  had  foretold  the  coming  of  one  to 
redeem  the  pagan  world,  and  of  the  Prophets  who 
prophesied  the  coming  of  a  Redeemer  to  the  Jewish 
people.  Glorious  figures  of  athletes  he  made,  each 
one  aglow  with  physical  beauty  and  the  strength  and 
joy  of  life,  and  just  as  skilfully  did  he  understand 
how  to  make  the  forms  of  children,  each  one  full  of 
the  joy  and  the  happiness  of  child  life. 

"It  is  truly  wonderful,  this  story  of  the  Creation 
to  the  time  of  Noah,"  pronounced  the  art  lovers, 
"and  thou  hast  done  it  in  so  reverent  a  manner  as  to 
make  it  all  majestic  and  grand." 

"I  have  ever  been  a  great  admirer  of  the  Bible," 
replied  the  artist  gravely. 

Besides  these  marvelous  paintings  on  the  ceiling 
of  the  Sistine  Chapel  and  the  Last  Judgment  painted 
upon  the  end  wall,  Michelangelo  worked  on  the 
Tombs  of  the  Medici  in  the  Church  of  San  Lorenzo 
at  Florence,  representing  all  the  parts  of  the  Uni- 
verse, Dawn  and  Day,  Twilight  and  Night. 

For  many  years  Michelangelo  lived,  until  he  be- 
came an  old  man.  So  far  above  others  did  he  tower 
in  the  grandeur  of  his  thoughts  and  plans,  that  he 
had  few  companions  and  was  much  alone.  It  was  in 
Florence  that  he  had  begun  his  work  and  there  he 


120     A  GREAT  SCULPTOR:  MICHELANGELO  . 

had  the  closest  ties,  so  that  when  he  died  in  Rome, 
he  was  taken  back  to  Florence,  the  city  which  he 
loved,  and  buried  in  the  Church  of  Santa  Croce. 
But  Michelangelo,  the  great  genius,  will  always  live 
so  long  as  his  marvelous  and  powerful  figures  shall 
last. 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

Until  the  seventeenth  century  the  Spanish  artists  had  to  make 
pictures  just  for  the  church  and  they  could  not  make  them  of 
the  real  people  they  saw  around  them,  but  had  to  make  stiff  and 
gloomy  pictures  of  only  the  subjects  which  the  church  wanted, 
just  as  the  Italian  artists  had  to  do  at  a  much  earlier  time. 
Then  came  the  seventeenth  century  when  two  great  artists 
changed  all  this,  breaking  away  from  the  old  stiffness.  One  of 
these  painters  was  Murillo  who  liked  to  paint  pictures  of  re- 
ligious subjects  in  quite  a  new  way,  not  at  all  stiff  and  formal 
as  they  had  been  before,  but  human  and  beautiful,  and  who 
painted  many  pictures  also  of  the  everyday  life  of  the  poor 
people.  The  other  great  artist  was  Velasquez  who  made  very 
truthful  and  charming  pictures  of  the  royal  family  in  Spain  and 
became  court  painter  to  Philip  IV  of  Spain,  just  as  Anthony 
Van  Dyck  became  court  painter  to  Charles  I  of  England.  Both 
liked  to  put  on  canvas  the  children  of  their  kings,  and  they  made 
them  look  very  real  indeed.  So  now  we  are  going  to  pretend 
that  we  are  living  about  three  hundred  years  ago  in  Spain,  in 
the  royal  palace,  at  the  time  when  Velasquez  was  court  painter, 
and  we  will  get  acquainted  with  the  royal  children  and  with  them 
listen  to  the  brave  deeds  of  the  Cid,  a  great  hero  of  Spain  about 
whose  life  are  woven  many  stories,  and  just  as  with  all  the 
other  great  heroes  of  the  Long  Ago,  so  many  stories  have  been 
told  about  them  for  so  many  centuries,  that  it  is  hard  to  say 
just  what  is  truth  and  what  is  fancy,  but  all  is  true  to  the  spirit 
of  the  times. 

121 


m    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

k 

IT  will  be  so  very 
tedious,"     sighed 
the  little  Infanta 
Maria  Theresa  to  her 
brother  Don  Balthazar 
Carlos.   The  royal  chil- 
dren of  King  Philip  the 
Fourth    of     Spain     in 
the    seventeenth    cen- 
tury,   were    seated    in 
a  big,  dreary  room  in 
the  Alcazar  palace  at 
Madrid.     There    were 
no  great  windows,  such 
as  we  have  to  let  in 
the   light,   but   it  was 
all    very    gloomy   and 
cold   indeed.     On   the 
walls      of     the     great 
woven 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

PHILIP  iv,  KING  OF  SPAIN  tures  of  trees  and  ani- 

By  Velasquez.  mals,    not    bright    in 

It  is  said  that  this  King  who  presided  over  i            i              j      i                j 

the  solemn  Spanish  court,  smiled  only  three  Col°r      but      dark>     and 

times  in  his  life!  the    ceiling  was    very 
high,  the  carved  woodwork  heavy,  and  the  pavement 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

of  marble.  There  was  nothing  homelike  in  the 
great  palace  room,  not  even  when  the  tall  wax 
torches  and  the  candles  in  the  huge  chandeliers  were 
lighted,  making  the  ceiling  seem  all  the  more  high, 
while  the  drawn  curtains  of  dark  green  silk  em- 
broidered with  gold  thread  into  patterns  of  scrolls, 
made  the  room  seem  all  the  more  heavy. 

As  the  little  Infanta  spoke,  she  too,  looked  weary 
and  gloomy,  and  she  was  not  flitting  about  playing 
games  as  most  children  of  eleven  would  be  doing,  but 
sat  very  still  and  straight  in  a  high  chair  with  a  tall 
back  and  very  heavy  carving.  She  did  not  look  like 
a  real  little  girl,  either,  because  of  her  clothes,  but  far 
more  like  a  little  girl  pretending  at  being  grown  up. 
She  was  dressed  in  a  most  magnificent  gown  of  rose 
and  silver  with  a  very  wide  and  heavy  skirt  spread 
out  over  a  hoop  and  extending  way  down  to  the  floor, 
a  tight,  uncomfortable  looking  waist,  a  beautiful 
broad  lace  collar  fastened  in  front  with  a  bright  bow, 
and  over  all — skirt,  waist  and  sleeves — much  heavy 
silver  braid.  But  most  uncomfortable  of  all,  she  wore 
a  wig  frizzed  in  many  ringlets. 

At  last,  from  across  the  big  room  the  figure  of 
a  boy  emerged  from  the  shadows  and  he  listlessly 
asked,  "What  will  be  tedious,  sister?"  He  was  Don 


124    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

Balthazar  Carlos,  her  brother,  heir  to  the  throne  of 
Spain,  and  several  years  older  than  she.     He,   too, 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

MARIANA  OF  AUSTRIA 

By  the  School  of  Velasquez. 

Do  you  wonder  that  this  little  grown-up  girl  looks  sad  when  you  think  of  the 
way  she  had  to  dress  and  behave  at  the  gloomy  Spanish  court? 

was  elaborately  dressed  in  a  black  velvet  suit  trimmed 
with  heavy  silver  braid,  and  a  black  velvet  cape 
falling  from  his  shoulders,  but  he  was  a  real  boy  for 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN     125 

all  that,  once  he  got  out  with  his  favorite  pony  and 
rode  galloping  away  with  his  pet  dogs  following  close 
behind. 

"Once  more  I  must  be  painted!  Should  you  not 
think,  brother,  that  Diego  Rodriguez  de  Silva  y 
Velasquez  would  be  tired  of  being  court  painter  and 
making  our  pictures  so  many  times?"  asked  the 
Infanta  Maria  Theresa,  languidly  putting  into  a  vase 
some  beautiful  roses,  while  with  her  handkerchief, 
so  big  that  it  resembled  a  table  covering,  she  flicked 
away  a  petal  which  had  caught  itself  in  the  heavy 
silver  braid  of  her  gown. 

"But  think  of  the  honor  conferred  upon  Velasquez 
in  being  permitted  to  paint  so  often  our  father,  His 
Majesty,  King  of  Spain,  our  late  mother,  the  Queen, 
and  us,  their  royal  children!"  Don  Balthazar  spoke 
quite  formally  as  became  the  heir  to  the  throne,  for 
he  was  a  true  prince,  this  little  boy  who  was  born  to 
command  and  rule,  yet  who  died  in  boyhood. 

'Thy  betrothed,  Mariana  of  Austria,"  said  the 
Infanta  very  formally,  also,  although  the  Princess  of 
Austria  was  but  a  child  herself,  only  twelve  years  of 
age,  "the  Princess  Mariana  likes  to  be  painted!  No 
doubt  she  desires  to  send  back  to  her  home  pictures 
of  herself  at  the  Spanish  court  during  her  visit  to  us." 


126    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 
DON  BALTHAZAR  CARLOS 

By  the  School  of  Velasquez. 
He  looks  like  a  real  little  boy  in  spite  of  the  elaborate  way  he  is  dressed! 

"That  is  just  what  I  wish  to  do,"  said  the  little 
Princess  in  question,  entering  the  great  room  at  that 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN     127 

moment,  followed  by  her  ladies-in-waiting  and  one  of 
the  funny  little  court  dwarfs  with  his  big  head  and 
small  body:  for  the  Spanish  court  kept  many  of  these 
queer  little  people  as  jesters  and  toys  to  keep  them 
from  forgetting  how  to  laugh,  so  gloomy  was  the 
Royal  Palace. 

"Come,  Pachito,  give  us  more  of  thy  pranks!  His 
Majesty  tells  me  it  is  not  comely  for  me  to  laugh  too 
heartily  at  thy  tricks,  but  I  tell  him  that  I  cannot 
but  do  so,  so  delightfully  funny  thou  art!  But  stay, 
Pachito,  thou  shalt  make  us  smile  when  our  court 
painter  next  puts  us  on  canvas!  To-morrow  is  the 
day  for  Maria  Theresa,  but  remember  to  curb  thy 
antics  lest  we  laugh  rather  than  smile  sedately!" 
Mariana,  too,  wore  a  very  long  and  wide  hoop-skirt 
with  far  more  elaborate  trimming  than  that  of  the 
little  Prince  and  Princess  of  Spain.  Indeed,  her  heavy 
skirt  was  so  wide  that  she  looked  as  broad  as  she  was 
long!  On  her  fingers  and  wrists  were  rings  and  brace- 
lets, and  her  wig  was  formed  of  many  ringlets  with 
a  little  red  bow  tied  at  the  end  of  each  and  a  long 
white  feather  drooping  over  at  the  right.  She  had 
not  been  long  enough  at  the  Spanish  court  to  have 
lost  all  her  gayety  and  to  have  become  wholly 
grown-up  and  dignified,  and  the  novelty  of  it  all  still 


128    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

amused  her.  "At  the  hour  of  two,  then,  to-morrow," 
she  added,  sinking  slowly  down  to  the  floor  and 
rising  very  slowly  as  she  had  been  taught,  careful  in 
the  managing  of  her  hoop-skirt  which  sometimes 
played  her  queer  tricks.  She  had  only  recently 
learned  to  make  one  of  the  deep  courtesies  which 
were  all  the  fashion  at  the  Spanish  court,  and  she  de- 
lighted in  showing  her  skill.  Little  did  she  dream  that 
in  two  years'  time  she  was  to  become  the  fourteen-year- 
old  bride  of  King  Philip,  three  times  as  old  as  she! 

After  the  little  Prince  and  Princess  had  courtesied 
properly  in  return  to  their  guest,  the  Princess  Mari- 
ana, they  sat  themselves  down  again  upon  their  high 
and  heavily  carved  chairs. 

"It  is  so  very  stupid,"  sighed  the  Infanta  Maria 
Theresa  again.  "Far  more  would  I  enjoy  riding  on 
my  new  horse  or  going  to  a  bull-fight.  Shall  you 
ever  forget  the  last  one  we  went  to,  Don  Carlos? 
How  skilful  the  toreadors  were  and  how  fierce  the 
bulls!"  Even  the  thought  of  the  spectacle  caused 
the  little  girl's  eyes  to  sparkle,  for  she  saw  nothing 
cruel  in  it  but  had  been  brought  up  to  enjoy  it  as 
boys  and  girls  to-day  enjoy  going  to  the  circus. 
"What  are  you  thinking  about,  brother?  You  look 
as  if  you  had  some  fine  secret  plan." 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN     129 

"And  so  I  have,"  answered  Don  Carlos,  smiling. 
"The  Princess  Mariana  has  given  me  an  idea.  We 
will  induce  our  court  painter  to  let  Pachito  tell  us 
a  story  to-morrow  when  you  are  having  your  picture 
painted,  and  I  shall  be  there  in  the  background,  and 
perhaps  even  Princess  Mariana  if  the  tale  Pachito 
tells  us  shall  be  exciting  enough  to  keep  her  quiet." 

"How  wonderful  you  are,  Don  Carlos!"  said  Maria 
Theresa  admiringly,  almost  clapping  her  hands, 
though  that  would  not  have  been  in  keeping  with 
a  Spanish  princess.  "I  shall  not  mind  being  painted 
if  only  I  have  something  to  hear  and  to  see,  and  I  can 
hear  with  my  ears  even  if  I  cannot  turn  my  head!" 

So  it  was  decided,  and  when  the  next  day  came, 
they  found  the  court  painter  very  willing  to  have 
a  story  told  by  the  dwarf  Pachito,  who  was  well 
known  to  have  marvelous  tales  ready  at  a  moment's 
notice.  "It  is  well,  for  I  shall  have  more  pleasant 
expressions  on  your  faces,"  said  the  court  painter, 
smiling,  and  then,  as  the  King  entered  the  room,  he 
bowed  low  before  him.  Tall  and  slender  was  the 
great  painter  and  he  wore  a  black  cloak  and  stiff, 
broad  collar,  above  which  rose  his  head,  surrounded 
by  heavy  and  long  black  hair.  Very  bright  and 
searching  were  his  eyes,  as  if  he  saw  everything  at 


130    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 


THE  MAIDS  OF  HONOR 
By  Velasquez.    Madrid,  Prado. 

This  little  picture  of  life  in  the  great  palace  in  Spain,  looks  very  real  indeed. 
It  looks  like  a  real  room  in  which  are  real  people.  There  stands  Velasquez  at  his 
easel  and  in  the  center  is  the  little  Spanish  Princess  who  is  so  tired  of  having  her 
portrait  painted!  The  queer  little  dwarfs  are  there  to  amuse  her. 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN     131 

a  glance,  and  seeing,  knew  well  how  to  transfer  it  to 
his  canvas  just  as  it  really  was, — real  people  in  real 
surroundings  of  light  and  depth  and  atmosphere. 

"We  greet  thee,  Diego  Velasquez,"  said  King 
Philip,  his  patron  and  friend,  as  he  stood  before  him 
clad  in  black  heavily  decorated  with  silver  and  gold 
embroidery;  "and  we  would  have  thee  paint  once 
again  our  daughter.  Pachito,  what  art  thou  doing 
here?  None  of  thy  pranks,  else  thou  might  do  mis- 
chief to  the  painting." 

"It  is  quite  in  order,  Your  Majesty,"  answered 
Velasquez.  "The  Prince  and  Princess  have  requested 
Pachito  to  amuse  them  with  one  of  his  tales  while 
I  paint  the  Princess  Maria  Theresa,  and  by  keeping 
her  in  good  humor,  he  will  help  me  in  my  work." 

Philip's  long  sallow  face  and  his  pale  eyes  lighted 
for  a  moment  with  the  flicker  of  a  smile.  "So  be  it, 
then,"  he  replied,  "but  Pachito!  Tell  thou  a  tale 
which  shall  not  call  for  amusement  but  for  an  ex- 
pression befitting  the  countenance  of  our  royal 
daughter.  What  hast  thou  in  mind?" 

"The  story  of  our  great  Spanish  hero,  the  Cid, 
Your  Majesty,"  answered  the  dwarf  humbly,  on  his 
knees  before  his  sovereign.  The  King  graciously 
nodded  his  long  head  in  approval,  and  followed  by 


132    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

his  attendants,  he  slowly  walked  to  the  rear  of  the 
room. 

"If  it  please  you,  Princess,  I  am  ready  to  begin," 
said  Diego  Velasquez,  taking  his  stand  before  the 
easel, .  and  getting  ready  his  paints  and  brushes. 
"Stand  there,  just  so,  with  that  flower  in  your  hand. 
Arrange  her  skirt  and  her  hair!"  he  commanded  her 
ladies-in-waiting,  and  in  a  moment  the  little  princess 
was  arranged,  her  exceedingly  long  and  wide  skirt  in 
place,  her  hair  in  order,  and  upon  her  face  a  look  of 
expectant  interest  which  Velasquez  hastened  to  paint. 
Don  Carlos  seated  himself  comfortably  in  the  ba.ck- 
ground  and  at  his  feet  crouched  the  queer  little  dwarf, 
Pachito,  while  the  Princess  Mariana  sat  by  his  side. 
"Begin!"  commanded  the  Prince,  so  Pachito  com- 
menced the  story,  swaying  back  and  forth  as  he 
talked. 

"A  great  hero  have  we,  my  royal  master  and 
mistress,  as  great  as  Roland  the  Brave  of  France, 
Rodrigo  Diaz  by  name,  who  was  born  near  Burgos 
six  hundred  years  ago,  and  of  wondrous  fame  was  he 
as  a  knight.  No  insult  would  he  brook  nor  treachery 
from  high  nor  low,  and  honor  he  held  always  before 
him.  The  *Cid'  or  'Lord'  he  was  called  because 
five  Moorish  kings  in  one  battle  proclaimed  him  their 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN     133 

lord  and  victor,  and  he  was  'campeador'  or  'cham- 
pion'  of  his   country  against  the  Moors.     He  was 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

A  RELIEF— A  PICTURE  CARVED  AGAINST  A  BACKGROUND-OF  A 
KNIGHT  ON  HORSEBACK 

By  a  Spanish  sculptor  of  the  13th  century. 

Let  us  pretend  that  this  knight  in  armor,  with  his  shield  on  his  arm,  is  the  Cid 
of  our  story,  starting  out  to  perform  all  sorts  of  wonderful  deeds. 

married  to  the  fair  Dona  Ximena   Gomez   who  be- 
lieved him  greatest  of  all  the  Spanish  men,  and  whom 


134    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

he    dearly    loved,    and    splendid    were   the    marriage 
festivities. 

*  From  house  to  house  all  over,  in  the  way  where  they  must 

march; 
They  have  hung  it  all  with  lances,  and  shields,  and  glittering 

helms, 
Brought  by  the  Campeador  from  out  the  Moorish  realms. 

6  They  have  scattered  olive  branches  and  riches  on  the  street, 
And  the  ladies  fling  down  garlands  at  the  Campeador }s  feet; 
With  tapestry  and  broidery  their  balconies  between, 
To  do  his  bridal  honor,  their  walls  the  burghers  screen.9 

"Soon  after  his  marriage,  the  brave  knight  went 
on  a  pilgrimage  and  everywhere  he  went  he  was 
careful  to  help  the  poor  and  the  needy.  One  day  he 
saw  a  leper  lying  by  the  roadside  calling,  'Help! 
Help!  or  I  perish!'  None  of  the  knights  who  trav- 
eled with  the  Cid  would  draw  near  to  the  leper, 
fearing  lest  they  might  fall  ill  of  his  awful  disease, 
but  straight  up  to  him  went  our  knight  and  raised 
him  up  and  put  him  on  his  far-famed  horse,  Babieca, 
and  kept  him  with  him  during  the  night.  And  lo! 
as  the  hour  of  midnight  drew  near,  the  Cid  felt 
a  cold  wind  upon  him  and  he  sat  himself  up  and  put 
out  his  hand  to  touch  the  leper  by  his  side,  but  he 
was  no  longer  there!  A  man  in  shining  white  ap- 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN     135 

peared  before  him  and  said,  'I  am  St.  Lazarus,  and  I 
was  the  leper  whom  thou  didst  help  for  the  sake  of 
God,  and  in  return  He  hath  granted  that  whenever  thou 
shalt  feel  this  cold  wind  blowing  upon  thee,  thou  shalt 
know  that  thou  wilt  be  successful  in  thy  undertaking 
whatever  it  shall  be.  A  great  victor  shalt  thou  be, 
and  thy  enemies  shall  fear  thee  mightily,  for  God  has 
blessed  thee.' 

"Valiant  deeds  did  the  Cid  perform  and  whenever 
he  felt  the  cold  blast  he  knew  that  victory  was  his 
as  St.  Lazarus  had  said.  Many  cities  did  he  conquer 
and  vast  multitudes  of  the  enemy  Moors,  for  it  was 
the  desire  of  his  King,  Fernando,  to  release  Spain 
from  the  hands  of  the  Infidels.  He  served  Fernando's 
sons  Sancho  and  Alfonso  as  faithfully  and  valiantly 
as  their  father,  though  through  the  jealousy  of  his 
enemies,  he  was  banished  by  both  the  kings  and  in 
sorrow  he  left  his  'hall  deserted,  the  household  chests 
unfastened,  the  doors  open,  no  cloaks  hanging  up, 
no  seats  in  the  porch,  no  hawks  upon  the  perches.' 
But  three  times  came  he  back  from  exile  by  order  of 
the  King  who  missed  him  in  his  battles  against  the 
Moors.  Then,  when  once  again  he  was  banished,  the 
Cid  Champion  forswore  his  allegiance  to  Alfonso  and 
rode  away  with  his  brave  followers.  Many  adven- 


136    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

tures  had  he  on  his  journeys,  among  them  the  cap- 
ture of  the  city  of  Valencia  whose  ruler  he  became  and 
where  he  made  his  dwelling  place  of  great  magnifi- 
cence. It  is  true  that  the  Moors  encamped  round  about 
it,  but  the  Cid  cried,  *  Sound  thy  drums,  oh  warriors, 
for  we  shall  conquer!'  Many  thousands  of  the  enemy 
were  put  to  flight  and  the  wonderful  sword,  Tizona, 
belonging  to  the  Moorish  King  Yusef  fell  into  the 
hands  of  our  Cid,  with  which  he  later  won  count- 
less victories.  Yet  merciful  was  the  Champion  to 
the  people  in  the  cities  he  besieged  and  he  spared 
their  lives  and  protected  their  wives  and  their 
children. 

"But  the  time  came  when  this  wonderful  cham- 
pion of  our  country  fell  sorely"  ill,  and  to  him  while  in 
that  state,  was  brought  the  word  that  Bucar,  the 
brother  of  Yusef,  both  of  whom  he  had  defeated  in 
battle  before,  was  coming  again  against  Valencia  with 
a  force  three  times  as  strong.  That  night,  as  the  hour 
of  midnight  approached,  and  the  King  lay  in  his 
weakness  ever  trying  to  plan  how  to  save  his  city,  a 
marvelous  brightness  enfolded  him,  and  he  saw  an  old 
man  before  him  with  keys  in  his  hand. 

"'I  am  St.  Peter,'  the  old  man  said,  'and  am  come 
to  tell  thee  that  in  thirty  days  thou  shalt  leave  this 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN     137 

world,  but  even  in  thy  death  shalt  thou  conquer  the 
Moorish  King  Bucar,  and  save  thy  city!'  A  wonder- 
ful plan  did  the  Saint  unfold,  and  the  Cid  assembled 
his  people  and  bade  them  bring  him  rose-water  and 
balsam  and  myrrh  and  mix  it  together  for  him  to 
drink  each  day.  Day  by  day  he  grew  fresher  and 
fairer  though  his  strength  was  ever  failing.  At  last 
he  called  his  wife,  the  Bishop,  and  his  three  faith- 
ful friends,  and  said,  'when  I  am  gone,  ye  shall  not 
mourn  and  cry  aloud  lest  the  Moors  hear  of  my 
leaving,  but  sound  the  trumpets  and  the  drums! 
Dress  my  body  as  in  life  and  bind  me  on  my  good 
horse  Babieca  with  my  sword,  Tizona,  in  my  hand, 
and  my  banner  flying.  Then  enter  into  battle  with 
Bucar  the  Moor,  and  be  assured  ye  shall  win!' 

"Concealing  their  grief  as  best  they  could,  his  wife 
and  his  friends  did  as  he  had  requested.  In  full 
armor  was  he  clad,  with  his  sword,  his  shield  and 
his  banner,  and  straight  through  the  gates  of  the 
city  did  his  army  ride  against  the  foe,  who,  when 
they  saw  the  Cid  coming  against  them,  broke  and 
fled,  for  they  knew  well  his  valor.  Victorious  were 
our  men  and  after  the  battle  they  took  the  great 
Cid,  in  grief,  to  Burgos  and  placed  him  in  the  Church 
of  San  Pedro,  where  many  people  came  to  look  in 


138    AT  THE  COURT  OF  PHILIP  IV  OF  SPAIN 

u 

awe  upon  the  great  Spanish  Champion  who  had 
done  such  marvelous  deeds  at  all  times." 

As  Pachito  ceased  speaking,  Don  Balthazar  heaved 
a  deep  sigh:  "Is  that  all?"  he  inquired,  wishing  for 
more.  "If  only  I  could  be  as  brave  as  our  Cid!" 

"I  would  not  mind  being  painted  if  I  could  hear 
a  story  each  time,"  said  the  Infanta  Maria  Theresa, 
stretching  herself  after  being  still  so  long,  but  full  of 
interest  in  the  story. 

"That  will  be  all  for  to-day,  but  thou  must  come 
each  time,  Pachito,  and  amuse  us  with  one  of  thy 
tales,"  said  Velasquez,  the  court  painter,  smiling, 
"for  never  before  have  I  made  so  charming  a  pic- 
ture." 


THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 

Very  often  this  year  we  have  used  that  magic  gift  of  ours 
which  we  call  "Imagination,"  and  it  has  taken  us  into  all  sorts 
of  marvelous  adventures  and  introduced  us  to  many  strange  and 
interesting  people.  "Let's  make-believe"  or  "Let's  pretend" 
is  all  we  have  to  say,  words  just  as  magic  as  "Open  Sesame" 
was  to  All  Baba  of  the  "Arabian  Nights."  So  to-day,  we  are 
going  to  say  those  magic  words  which  will  enable  us  to  bring  to 
life,  for  a  little  while,  some  of  the  "Picture  Children"  in  the 
Metropolitan  Museum  of  New  York  City  and  perhaps,  if  we 
say  the  words  times  enough  and  earnestly  enough,  some  of  the 
"Picture  Children"  from  other  Museums  will  visit  us,  too. 

Of  course  it  is  only  very  seldom  that  we  can  get  them  to  step 
out  of  their  frames,  so  we  shall  have  to  be  ever  so  quiet  and  yet 
very  glad  to  see  them  when  they  do  come,  else  they  will  all  run 
back  into  their  places  and  become  just  pictures  once  more. 

So  now  let  us  wish  very  hard  and  long  that  by  means  of  our 
wonderful  magic  gift  these  little  folk  will  move  and  talk,  just  for 
this  once;  all  ready  now — we  will  wish  together  and  see  what 
will  come  to  pass! 

LL  the  doors  of  the   Metropolitan  Museum   in 
New    York    City   had    been    closed    and    se- 
curely locked  and  bolted  to  make  everything 
ready  for  the  night.     The  lights  had  gone  out  and 
the  night  watchman  with  his  flashlight  had  made  his 

139 


140         THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 

k 

rounds.  Not  a  sound  was  there  except  for  the  rumble 
of  the  traffic  outside. 

The  hours  slipped  by,  and  once  more  the  watchman 
made  his  rounds  and  saw  that  "all  was  well."  Again 
there  was  the  deepest  of  silences  until  suddenly  there 
came  a  queer  sound  of  something  heavy  falling  upon 
the  floor  with  a  ringing  noise.  Had  the  watchman 
been  going  by,  he  would  have  been  sure  that  some 
one  was  breaking  into  one  of  the  cases  and  had 
dropped  his  heavy  tools.  Silence  for  a  moment,  and 
then  unmistakably  the  sound  of  a  little  voice:  "Oh 
dear!  I  just  knew  that  some  day  I  should  drop  that 
big  sword  and  now  I  have!  I've  wanted  to,  times 
enough,  but  never  did  before  until  to-night  when  I  was 
able  to  move  because  real  boys  and  girls  were  wishing 
for  me  to  change  from  a  Picture  Boy  into  a  Real  Boy 
again.  I  must  say,  it's  rather  quiet  and  dark  here, 
but  how  good  it  is  to  step  out  of  that  frame  and 
move  once  more.  I  say!  Is  any  one  else  alive?" 

"Mother!"  called  a  little  voice  from  across  the 
room,  "Mother!"  See,  I  can  move  and  so  can  sister, 
and,  oh  mother,  the  little  French  boy  on  the  opposite 
wall  whom  I  have  been  looking  at  for  so  long  is  alive 
too,  and  outside  of  his  frame,  sword  and  all!  I  won- 
der if  he  knows  that  we  are  French!" 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 
THE  BOY  WITH  A  SWORD 

By  Edouard  Manet. 

The  sword  looks  almost  as  big  as  the  boy,  and  no  wonder  that,  in  our  story,  he 
got  tired  of  holding  it  and  let  it  drop  on  the  floor! 


142         THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 

b 

"The  real  live  children  of  to-day  have  done  this 
for  us,"  answered  the  mother's  voice  as  she,  too,  rose 
from  the  couch  where  she  had  been  sitting,  took  by 
the  hand  each  little  girl  in  her  blue-frilled  frock,  and 
stepped  down  upon  the  floor. 

"Hush!  Do  not  waken  your  dog,"  she  whispered, 
"for  that  would  put  an  end  to  our  adventure!  The 
man  who  walks  by  every  once  in  a  while  with  a  little 
light  would  come  back  and  away  we  should  go  within 
our  frames,  so  let  Pierre  sleep.  Listen,  children,  do 
you  not  hear  other  voices?  Come,  Little  Boy  with  the 
Sword,  come  with  us  and  we  will  go  to  meet  the  other 
children.  It  is  only  children,  and  grown-ups  who  are 
with  them  in  their  pictures,  who  can  speak  and  move 
to-night.  Step  carefully,  my  little  ones." 

"I  am  here!  Let  me  come,  too!"  they  heard  as 
they  crept  along  through  the  dark  galleries,  and  "Let 
me,  and  me,  and  me!"  It  was  so  dark  that  they 
could  see  very  little,  but  by  the  voices  which  they 
kept  hearing  they  knew  that  more  and  more  little 
people  had  joined  them.  "Where  shall  we  go  and 
what  shall  we  do?"  asked  someone.  "A  party, 
a  party!"  cried  a  girl  whose  quaint  colonial  costume 
could  be  dimly  seen  as  she  came  nearer.  "A  party 
in  the  rooms  with  the  old  English  and  American 


THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY         143 

furniture!  I  know,  because  some  children  from  the 
schools  talked  about  them  one  day  when  they  stood 
in  front  of  me  looking  at  my  fireplace  and  the  rosy 
light  from  the  fire  shining  on  my  apples  on  the  hearth. 
I  am  quite  sure  I  can  find  them  and  I  have  heard  the 
children  say  there  are  candles  which  perhaps  we  could 
light  in  some  way  or  other!" 

"A  party,  a  party!"  cried  all  the  voices  delightedly, 
and  with  the  'Colonial  Girl  in  the  lead,  they  stole 
softly  through  the  shadowy  galleries  until  they  came 
to  those  in  which  shapes  of  chairs,  tables,  and  cabi- 
nets stood  out  from  the  darkness,  and  where  a  stray 
moonbeam  lighted  up  the  brass  handles  and  candle- 
sticks. 

"Here  we  are,"  said  the  Colonial  Maid  at  last,  "and 
there  are  some  tall  candles  over  that  mirror  in  its 
beautiful  mahogany  frame  if  only  we  could  light 
them!" 

"Allow  me  to  assist  you,"  answered  a  deep  and 
very  courteous  voice  from  among  the  shadowy  group 
of  "Picture  People." 

"Who  is  it?  Can  it  be  the  night  watchman  come 
to  spoil  our  party?"  came  the  whispers  from  every 
side. 

"He  is  no  watchman,  but  my  grandfather!"  piped 


144        THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 
THE  EARL  OF  ARUNDEL  AND  HIS  GRANDSON 
By  Sir  Anthony  Van  Dyck. 

Here  stands  the  stately  Earl  in  shining  armor  with  his  arm  around  his  devoted 
little  grandson. 


THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY         145 

an  indignant  little  voice,  which  went  on  to  say  in 
a  most  dignified  manner,  "Allow  me  to  present  my 
grandfather,  the  Earl  of  Arundel!  He  is  in  the 
picture  with  me  and  so  came  to  life  when  I  did!" 

'You  are  very  welcome,  Sir,"  answered  the  Colo- 
nial Maid,  making  a  deep  courtesy  before  the  tall 
English  gentleman,  "and  we  should  be  greatly  in 
your  debt  if  you  would  give  us  some  light  so  that  we 
may  see  one  another  and  have  a  grand  ball  and 
party." 

At  that  was  heard  the  clanking  of  armor,  and  the 
Earl  of  Arundel,  in  sixteenth  century  English  ar- 
mor, stepped  forward.  He  took  out  one  of  the  tall 
candles  from  its  holder  at  the  side  of  the  mirror, 
and  handed  it  to  his  little  grandson:  "Hold  this  taper, 
my  boy,  and  be  ready  with  it  the  moment  you  see 
a  spark!"  Then  came  the  sound  of  hard  surfaces 
rubbing  together  and  after  a  very  few  moments  the 
little  boy  held  the  candle  to  the  spark  and  lo!  it  was 
lighted!  Another  and  another  followed,  till  that 
room  and  the  one  beyond  were  filled  with  a  mellow 
candle-light. 

"How  fine  it  is!"  cried  one  and  another  looking 
around  them  at  objects  in  the  rooms  before  they 
looked  at  their  neighbors. 


146         THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 

I» 

"I  have  often  slept  in  a  bed  like  that!"  cried  the 
little  boy  who  had  held  the  candle,  as  he  stood  in 
front  of  the  high  English  bed  with  its  silk  and  em- 
broidered coverlet  and  dainty  curtains.  "And  I  in 
a  bed  like  this!"  echoed  the  voice  of  the  Colonial 
Maid  from  the  next  room  where  she  stood  in  front  of 
the  high  American  bed  with  its  hand-woven  spread 
and  its  side-curtains.  "Oh,  and  the  gilded  mirrors 
and  beautiful  mahogany  tables  and  chairs  and  desks, 
just  like  those  we  had  in  our  day!"  she  added.  "We, 
too,  have  found  our  beautiful  bright  French  chairs 
and  tables  and  mirrors!"  cried  the  children  from 
France  who  had  taken  a  candle  with  them  and  found 
their  way  across  the  corridor  into  the  French  galleries. 

"I  tell  you  what  let  us  do,"  said  a  very  charming 
American  lady  with  two  little  girls  in  white  by  her 
side.  "We  will  begin  our  party  by  playing  a  game!" 

"May  I  inquire  what  a  'party'  may  be?"  gravely 
asked  a  queer  little  figure  in  a  queerer  costume:  her 
skirts  were  so  wide  that  it  was  with  difficulty  she  sat 
or  rather  balanced  herself  on  the  very  edge  of  a  ca- 
pacious chair.  "In  Spain,  we  children  at  the  Royal 
Court  had  no  'parties'!" 

"Had — no — parties!"  gasped  the  other  children 
together  in  one  breath. 


THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY         147 

"It  is  time  you  had  one  then,"  smiled  the  tall 
American  mother,  looking  with  compassion  upon  the 
stiff  little  Spanish  Princess.  "But  before  we  begin 
our  party,  I  am  going  to  ask  our  good  friend,  the 
Earl,  if  he  will  kindly  walk  through  this  great  build- 
ing and  see  whether  any  more  of  us  have  come  from 
OUT  frames." 

The  Earl  bowed  in  a  very  courtly  manner,  and 
started  off  at  once,  the  candle-light  shining  upon  his 
armor  as  he  moved.  It  was  not  so  very  long  before 
he  was  back  with  nine  or  ten  strange  boys  and  girls 
delightedly  tiptoeing  along  behind  him. 

"A  wonderful  thing  has  happened!"  cried  the  little 
grandson  of  the  Earl  who  had  stolen  away  and  fol- 
lowed his  grandfather.  "All  the  frames  were  filled 
and  we  were  just  returning  when  we  were  sure  we 
heard  voices  from  downstairs:  so  down  we  went  in  the 
direction  of  the  sounds  and  as  we  were  going  through 
a  long  corridor  at  the  left  of  the  grand  staircase,  we 
heard  the  voices  quite  distinctly,  and  then  we  saw 
all  of  these  boys  and  girls  pressed  close  to  the  door  of 
a  big  room  which  seemed  to  be  a  Library.  Grand- 
father told  them  just  how  to  turn  the  handle  of  the 
door  and  out  they  came,  and  here  they  are!" 

"Oh!  They,  too,  felt  the  children  of  to-day  wishing 


148         THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 

k 

for  them  and  so  came  from  book-pictures,  is  that  not 
so?"  asked  the  American  lady  turning  to  the  new- 
comers. 

"Yes,  yes!"  they  answered.  "We  are  really  in 
pictures  far  away,  but  they  had  copies  of  us  in  the 
Library  here,  so  we  can  join  you,  too." 

Then,  just  as  soon  as  all  had  seated  themselves — 
and  there  were  not  chairs  enough  to  go  around,  so 
many  curled  up  comfortably  on  the  floor — not  one 
of  them  disturbing  the  immaculate  coverings  of  the 
big  beds,  although  several  looked  at  them  with  long- 
ing eyes — the  American  lady  continued,  "Now  then, 
our  party  will  begin  with  a  game  I  am  going  to  call 
'Names,  Nations,  and  News,'  and  by  that  I  mean 
that  each  picture  person  or  group  will  tell  who  they 
are,  where  they  lived  and  anything  about  themselves 
which  will  be  of  interest  to  the  rest  of  us.  We  will 
go  right  around  in  turn,  beginning  with  our  good 
friend,  the  Earl." 

"My  .little  grandson  and  I,"  began  the  Earl,  put- 
ting his  arm  around  the  small  boy  in  the  orange- 
colored  suit  just  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  doing  in 
the  picture,  "my  little  grandson  and  I  are  English, 
and  we  lived  over  three  hundred  years  ago.  I  was 
made  commander  of  the  army  in  Scotland  and  that 


THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY         149 

is  why  my  good  friend,  the  great  Flemish  painter 
Anthony  Van  Dyck,  whom  I  had  the  honor  of  bring- 
ing to  the  attention  of  King  Charles  I,  and  who  later 
was  made  court  painter,  painted  me  in  this  suit  of 
armor.  This  little  lad  is  my  grandson,  Thomas,  and 
very  fond  I  am  of  the  boy.  And  now,  good  'picture' 
friends,  may  I  introduce  this  little  group  by  my 
side — all  English  children — and  let  them  speak  next? 
First,  the  children  of  His  Majesty,  our  martyred 
King  Charles  I,  shall  begin.  God  save  the  present 
King  and  bring  him  victories!" 

"I  am  Prince  Charles,"  said  the  little  boy  in  the 
lace  collar  and  cap  and  embroidered  frock,  "and 
I  later  became  Charles  II,  King  of  England,  after 
many  exciting  adventures  of  which  you  have  probably 
heard.  This  is  my  sister  Mary  who  afterwards 
married  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and  this  little  boy," 
pointing  to  a  chubby  little  fellow  in  a  long  gown  and 
little  lace  cap,  "is  my  brother  James  whom  you  know 
as  'Baby  Stuart.'  Sir  Anthony  Van  Dyck,  my 
father's  court  painter,  as  the  Earl  of  Arundel  told 
you,  pictured  us  all  many  times  both  as  children  and 
after  we  grew  up,  and  everyone  says  that  they  like 
our  pictures  very  much." 

"I  am  very  glad  to  meet  your  Royal  Highness," 


150         THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY     h 

chirped  the  little  lady  next  in  turn.  "I  am  little 
Miss  Bowles  and  this  is  my  dog  who  never  barks,  so 
you  need  not  be  afraid  that  he  will  make  a  noise  and 
break  up  our  party.  I  lived  almost  a  hundred  years 
after  your  Highness  and  I  was  painted  by  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  a  great  English  artist  who  lived  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  He  liked  to  paint  children  and 
one  day  mother  invited  him  to  dinner  and  we  had 
a  splendid  time  together  for  he  told  me  wonderful 
stories,  so  I  didn't  mind  a  bit  going  to  his  studio  the 
next  day.  He  let  me  have  a  good  romp  with  my  dog, 
and  then  he  painted  us  together  and  when  I  am  in 
my  frame,  I  am  in  London.  Here  is  another  little 
English  girl  waiting  to  tell  her  story." 

"I  am  called,  when  I  am  in  my  frame,  'The  Age 
of  Innocence/  said  the  little  girl,  "and  I,  too,  was 
painted  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  who  was  my  grand- 
uncle.  I  am  not  dressed  up  very  much  and  you  see 
I  have  no  shoes,  but  I  sit  in  a  beautiful  landscape 
where  I  can  see  the  trees  and  the  sky  and  think  won- 
derful thoughts  as  I  watch  the  clouds:  and  I  am  so 
glad  that  all  the  living  children  like  me  and  that 
copies  of  me  hang  in  many  of  their  rooms." 

"I  am  Master  Hare  and  I  was  painted  by  this 
very  same  English  artist,"  announced  a  very  little 


THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY         151 

boy    with  light    hair   and   a  white  dress  and  purple 
sash. 

"And  I  am  Georgiana  Augusta  Frederica  Elliott," 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

My!  what  a  long  name  for  a  little  girl!  Georgiana  Augusta  Frederica  Elliott, 
and  she  was  painted  by  a  great  English  artist  named  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  Isn't 
she  a  demure  little  maiden,  and  don't  you  think  that  the  pattern  made  by  the 
branches  of  the  trees  against  the 'sky  is  beautiful? 


152         THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 

h 

added  a  very  demure  maiden,  bowing  sedately,  with 
her  little  hands  folded  in  front  of  her.  Her  face 
looked  demure,  it  is  true,  as  it  peered  out  of  her  little 
cap  with  its  pink  bow,  but  somehow  you  felt  that 
she  would  not  be  such  a  bad  playfellow  after  all. 

"My  name  is  Jack  Hill  and  my  picture  is  in  the 
same  gallery  with  Georgiana  Elliott:  her  name  is  too 
long  to  say  it  all!  My  father  and  I  lived  on  the  edge 
of  a  great  wood  and  father  was  a  woodcutter  at  first 
and  then  later  another  great  eighteenth  century  artist 
painted  pictures  of  us.  Everybody  liked  to  be  painted 
by  the  great  Gainsborough  and  I  did,  too.  I  am 
holding  my  cat  very  tightly  because  I  am  afraid  that 
unless  I  do,  she  will  scratch  Miss  Bowies'  dog." 

"We,  too,  were  painted  by  a  great  English  artist 
who  lived  at  the  same  time,  and  we  live  in  the  same 
gallery  with  you,"  cried  a  dear  little  boy  and  girl. 
"We  are  the  little  Godsal  children  and  we  have  the 
most  beautiful  colors  to  watch,  don't  we,  mother? 
And  the  artist  who  painted  us  was  the  famous  John 
Hoppner.  All  the  hours  long  we  sit  out-of-doors  and 
watch  the  sun  going  to  rest:  it  makes  such  a  wonder- 
ful golden  glow." 

"The  artist  who  painted  me,"  said  the  next  little 
person,  "knew  how  to  paint  a  golden  light  too,  only 


THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 


153 


this  time  the  light  is  indoors,  and  coming  through 
a  window  in  the  next  room  to  where  I  am  standing, 
receiving  a  jug  from  our  maid-servant.  I  can  re- 
member how  fearful  I 
was  lest  I  should  drop 
that  jug  but  Pieter  de 
Hooch  painted  us  in 
very  quickly  and  then 
we  were  framed  and 
hung  in  the  Museum  at 
Amsterdam  for  all  girls 
and  boys  to  enjoy." 

"He  painted  me, 
too,"  chimed  in  another 
little  Dutch  girl  in  long 
dress  and  cap,  "just 

THE  COURT  OF  A  DUTCH  HOUSE 


By  Pieter  de  Hooch. 
London,  National  Gallery. 
Just  an  everyday  scene   with  everyday 
people  and  yet  how  very  real  and  beautiful 
it  is. 


coming  into  our  brick- 
paved  courtyard  with 
our  servant-girl.  We 
had  been  out  feeding 
our  hens  arid  gathering 
fruit,  and  I  was  hurrying  back  to  join  mother  who  was 
standing  at  the  door  waiting  for  father  to  come  home 
from  work.  The  light  in  the  picture  is  that  of  the 
sunset  and  I  know  you  would  say  it  all  looks  very 


154        THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 

•  IK 

real  and  homelike.  I  wish  mother  had  come  with 
me  to-night  but  she'd  rather  stay  watching  for  father. 
Maybe  you  can  all  see  us  sometime  in  London." 

"This  same  artist  painted  me  and  my  mother  and 
my  dog,  and  you  can  see  us  without  going  to  London, 
for  we  are  in  the  very  same  room  with  the  Earl  of 
Arundel,"  said  a  little  girl's  voice,  "and  this  Dutch 
girl  next  to  me  is  here  in  this  Museum  and  was 
painted  by  another  Dutch  painter  who  lived  at  the 
same  time,  Nicolaes  Maes.  See,  isn't  her  red  dress 
pretty?  In  the  picture  she  sits  by  a  table  with  a  gay 
cover  and  peels  apples,  so  she  brought  the  dish  with 
her  and  we  can  all  have  one  now!" 

"I  never  before  ate  a  common  apple  served  in  this 
simple  way,"  commented  the  stately  little  Spanish 
lady,  Mariana  of  Austria.  "Don  Balthazar  Carlos 
and  I  who  were  painted  many  times  by  our  great 
court  painter  Velasquez,  always  had  our  food  pre- 
sented to  us  by  our  ladies-in-waiting  who  received  it 
from  the  gentlemen-in-waiting  who  received  it  from 
the  servants  of  the  table." 

"I  am  so  glad  I  am  an  American  child,"  announced 
one  of  the  two  little  girls  who  stood  close  by  the  side 
of  the  tall  lady  in  white.  "I  think  these  apples  are 
best  just  like  this.  Often  after  mother  has  told  us 


THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY         155 


a  fairy  story — as  she  is 
doing  in  our  picture — we 
have  a  feast  of  apples  be- 
fore we  go  to  bed." 

"We  get  apples  from 
our  own  trees,"  announced 
a  boy  in  a  soft  green 
frock.  "Mother  and  sis- 
ter and  I  had  just  been 
picking  apples  one  day, 
when  father  came  out  and 
painted  us  all  together, 
mother  holding  sister, 
whom  I  call  'Goldilocks,' 
while  I  stood  close  to  her 
side  and  took  hold  of  her 
arm.  We  are  called  'In 
the  Garden,'  and  from 
where  we  stay  we  can 
see  the  picture  of  'Fairy 
Tales'." 

"I  am  sorry  to  inter- 
rupt the  game,"  said  the 
Earl  of  Arundel  in  his 
most  stately  manner,  "but 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art. 

IN  THE  GARDEN 
By  George  De  Forest  Brush. 
I  wish  you  could  see  this  painting  in 
all  its  beautiful  colors,  but  at  any  rate 
you  can  see  how  the  long  lines  of  the 
draperies  fit  into  one  another  and  are  full 
of  rhythm  and  grace. 


156         THE  PICTURE  CHILDREN'S  PARTY 

b 

if  we  wish  to  have  our  ball  before  the  watchman  ap- 
pears, let  us  go  down  to  the  main  hall  at  once." 

"All  ready,  now,"  cried  the  Colonial  Girl,  "lets 
form  a  procession,  and  those  who  did  not  get  a  chance 
at  the  game  can  have  all  the  more  dances  downstairs. 
Our  stately  'Magnolia'  shall  lead,  the  Earl  shall  go 
next  with  his  grandson,  Princess  Mariana  of  Austria 
with  the  Little  Boy  with  a  Sword,  the  children  of 
Charles  the  First,  our  visitors  from  far  away,  followed 
by  our  little  Dutch  guests:  then  the  French  lady  and 
her  two  little  girls,  and  you  two  little  Italian  boys; — • 
that's  right,  take  the  little  Italian  girl  with  the  cher- 
ries along  with  you!  Now  little  Miss  Bowles  and  the 
Godsal  children,  the  'Fairy  Tale'  girls  and  their 
'Fairy  Tale'  mother,  Mrs.  Brush  and  her  children. 
We  must  hurry  now,  so  all  the  rest  of  you  fall  in 
line  and  go  down  the  great  staircase  just  as  softly  as 
possible.  Be  careful  not  to  fall,  and  I  will  be  the 
rear  guard.  Then  when  we  reach  the  main  hall  and 
that  splendid,  smooth  stone  floor,  what  a  dance  we 
shall  have, — until  we  hear  the  watchman's  footsteps 
in  the  distance!  Then  we  must  hurry  back  to  our 
frames  and  books,  hoping  that  some  other  time  the 
living  boys  and  girls  will  use  their  magic  gift  once 
more,  and  'imagine'  us  back  again!" 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE 

Often  when  ue  go  out  of  doors  we  see  flags  in  the  windows,  on 
poles,  and  floating  from  the  very  tops  of  buildings.  All  these 
flags  waving  so  proudly  in  the  breeze,  tell  us  that  we  must  be 
true  and  patriotic  American  citizens,  loyal  to  our  country  and 
to  our  government  in  Washington  which  has  so  many  important 
affairs  to  decide. 

In  these  days,  all  our  newspapers  have  representatives  in 
Washington  at  the  different  meetings,  to  keep  track  of  what  is 
going  on;  they  telegraph  the  news  to  the  different  newspaper 
offices,  the  newspapers  print  articles  in  the  papers,  and  the  news- 
boys carry  them  through  the  streets,  selling  them  to  the  people. 
That  is  how  we  find  out  when  important  and  exciting  events 
have  taken  place. 

Many  years  ago,  in  1775,  some  very  important  news  had  to 
be  taken  through  the  colonies;  but  it  was  done  very  differently 
from  the  way  we  would  do  it  nowadays.  The  man  who  carried 
the  news  so  long  ago  was  Paul  Revere  of  Boston,  a  silversmith, 
engraver,  a  maker  of  cartoons  and  medals,  and  even  a  dentist  as 
well  as  a  patriot!  This  story  I  am  going  to  tell  you  now  I  have 
woven  about  the  time  of  Paul  Revere.  You  may  at  once  say 
that  you  wish  you  had  lived  then  with  Betty  and  John,  but 
maybe  you  will  be  glad  you  live  nowadays,  when  you  read  how 
they  were  instructed  to  behave  at  the  table! 

"Never  sit  down  at  the  table  till  asked,  and  after  the  blessing. 
Ask  for  nothing;  tarry  'till  it  be  offered  thee.  Speak  not.  Bite 
not  thy  bread  but  break  it.  Take  salt  only  with  a  clean  knife. 

157 


158  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE 

b 

Dip  not  the  meat  in  the  same.  Hold  not  thy  knife  upright  but 
sloping,  and  lay  it  down  at  right  hand  of  plate  with  blade  on 
plate.  Look  not  earnestly  at  any  other  that  is  eating.  When 
moderately  satisfied  leave  the  table.  Sing  not,  hum  not,  wriggle 
not." 

IN  the  morning  of  the  18th  of  April  in  1775,  in 
Medford,  a  little  town  of  Massachusetts,  Mas- 
ter Jonathan  Rowland  rang  the  bell  at  the 
usual  time  for  school  to  begin.  The  school-room 
was  a  large  room  with  a  sanded  floor,  the  light  com- 
ing in  through  little  windows  made  of  sheets  of  oiled 
white  paper.  At  one  end  was  a  great  fireplace,  and 
bright  flames  were  leaping  up  into  the  huge  chimney. 
In  tramped  the  boys  and  girls  and  took  their  seats  at 
the  long  benches  with  much  marked  desks  in  front  of 
them.  Buzz!  Buzz!  Buzz!  The  whispering  was 
even  worse  than  usual  that  morning,  and  there  seemed 
to  be  everywhere  an  air  of  great  excitement.  But 
a  stern  tap!  tap!  tap!  of  Master  Rowland's  heavy 
ferule  brought  silence,  for  they  knew  that  disobedi- 
ence to  that  command  would  mean  the  use  of  the 
birch-rod  hanging  over  the  fireplace.  Almost  every 
lad  there  had  felt  that  rod  at  one  time  or  another, 
and  knew  that  Master  Rowland  wielded  it  "with  no 
light  hand. 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE  159 

The  forenoon  wore  on,  but  it  seemed  as  if  twelve 
o'clock  would  never  come!  Never  before  had  classes 
dragged  so  slowly,  nor  such  stupid  answers  been 
given.  A  puzzled  frown  gathered  on  Master  How- 
land's  brow:  what  was  the  trouble  with  them  all? 
The  boys  were  most  unruly,  but  even  the  little  girls 
had  their  thoughts  on  something  besides  the  lesson. 
The  feeling  of  excitement  began  to  communicate  it- 
self even  to  the  teacher.  He  had  cause  to  be  excited, 
however,  for  had  not  King  George  been  unjustly  tax- 
ing the  colonists,  causing  the  great  "Boston  Tea 
Party"  when  a  band  of  colonists,  dressed  as  Indian 
warriors,  boarded  the  ships  in  Boston  harbor  con- 
taining the  tea  which  was  to  be  taxed,  broke  open  the 
tea  chests  and  threw  the  contents  into  the  water? 
And  worse  than  that,  was  not  every  patriot  on 
guard,  for  news  had  come  that  the  Boston  patriots 
were  very  anxious,  knowing  that  the  British  had 
certain  plans  on  foot.  Doubtless  the  youngsters 
had  heard  these  rumors,  and  were  made  uneasy  and 
excited  by  them.  So  Master  Rowland  overlooked 
much  of  the  confusion  and  bad  lessons,  and  won- 
der of  wonders,  dismissed  school  at  a  quarter  of 
twelve! 

Scarcely  had  the  children  crossed  the  threshold  of 


160 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE 


the  door,  when  the  subdued  buzzing  which  had  filled 
the  school-room  burst  into  a  veritable  roar. 


Courtesy  of  the  Detroit  Publishing  Company. 

BOSTON  TEA  PARTY 

By  Reid;  in  the  Boston  State  House. 
Over  goes  the  tea  which  has  been  unjustly  taxed! 

"Dost  think  there'll  be  war?"  asked  little  Betty 
Prescott  timidly,  looking  up  with  wide  eyes  at  big 
Nat  Warren. 

"Father  says  it  is  likely  to  come/'  answered  the 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE  161 

big  boy  gravely.  "But  don't  be  afraid,  Betty; 
I  won't  let  them  hurt  you!" 

"My  father  says  that  our  minute-men  will  soon 
lick  the  red-coats!"  boasted  Tom  Pickering,  saunter- 
ing up  to  the  little  group  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets. 

"'Twould  be  an  idle  boast  to  say  that  would  be 
an  easy  task,"  replied  Nat  Warren  thoughtfully, 
"the  red-coats  are  many  in  number,  and  well- 
equipped,  but  our  minute-men  would  every  one  fight 
to  the  last  for  their  homes  and  their  country." 

"Hooray!"  cried  the  boys  and  girls,  waving  their 
hands  excitedly. 

But  rather  a  solemn  hush  fell  over  the  little  group 
which  several  other  boys  and  girls  had  joined.  To 
hear  one  of  the  older  boys,  and  especially  one  who 
was  held  in  such  high  esteem  as  "big  Nat,"  talk  so 
seriously  made  them  think.  It  is  true,  they  had 
many  times  during  the  past  months,  heard  their 
mothers  and  fathers  discussing  the  serious  condition 
in  which  the  colonies  were  placed.  News  of  the 
famous  "Boston  Tea  Party"  in  1773  had  been  most 
exciting,  and  many  times  had  they  begged  to  hear 
the  story  repeated;  and  they  knew  that  their  fathers 
and  brothers  were  ready  to  fight  at  a  minute's  warn- 


162  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE 

k 

ing,  and  that  their  mothers  were  often  sad  over  the 
thought  that  "father"  or  "son"  might  have  to  give 
his  life  for  his  country.  Yet  it  had  never  seemed  so 
near  before,  and  there  was  a  dark  rumor  afloat  that 
very  day  that  the  British  were  about  to  leave  Boston 


Courtesy  of  the  Towle  Manufacturing  Company. 

THE  BOSTON  MASSACRE 

From  an  engraving  by  Paul  Revere,  Boston. 

for  a  secret  expedition, — perhaps  even  to  seize  the 
war-stores  at  Concord! 

"Father  said  this  morning  that  medicine  chests, 
linen  and  ammunition  have  been  placed  in  every  vil- 
lage round  about  here,"  said  Patience  Barrett,  whose 
father  was  a  most  enthusiastic  patriot. 

It  surely  did  look  as  if  their  very  homes  were  in 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE  163 

danger,  and  a  sobered  and  unusually  silent  crowd  of 
children  went  thoughtfully  back  to  school  that  after- 
noon. 

At  the  close  of  school  they  felt  no  better  and  the 
excitement  in  the  air  had  increased  rather  than 
lessened. 

Little  Betty  Prescott  and  her  twelve-year-old 
brother  John  hurried  home.  They  had  a  long  way 
to  go  and  it  was  quite  dark  before  they  reached  there. 
Mistress  Prescott  and  her  husband  were  already 
seated  at  the  supper  table, — a  beautiful  one  of  old 
mahogany  with  its  polished  surface  reflecting  the 
silver  spoons,  cups,  and  tankards,  some  of  them  made 
and  designed  by  Paul  Revere  of  Boston,  a  silversmith 
and  engraver,  the  very  man  who  was  often  sent,  in 
behalf  of  his  country,  on  secret  missions  by  the  Com- 
mittee of  Safety.  There  was  not  a  child  in  the 
neighboring  towns  who  had  not  heard  mentioned 
by  the  older  folk  the  name  of  Paul  Revere,  and  his 
bravery  and  daring. 

"Father,"  said  John,  as  he  hurriedly  took  his  place 
at  the  table,  hungry  after  his  long  walk,  "Is  it  true 
we  are  going  to  war?" 

"I  hope  not,  my  son,"  answered  his  father,  gravely. 

"Why  do  they  call  you  a  'minute-man,'  father?" 


164  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE 

b 

questioned  Betty  looking  up  from  her  big  white 
biscuits  spread  with  golden  honey. 

"Because  I  am  ready  to  fight  for  liberty  at  any 
minute!"  answered  father  with  a  strange  ring  in  his 
clear  voice. 

"Let  us  pray  that  you  will  never  be  called  upon  to 
do  so,"  said  the  good  mother  Prescott  hastily,  with 
an  anxious  look  upon  her  face. 

They  ate  silently  after  that,  each  one  thoughtful, 
until  father  said,  "I  must  go  to  see  whether  anything 
new  has  been  heard,  and,  Mary,  if  any  one  should 
come  for  me  or  you  should  have  need  of  me  in  any 
way,  send  John  down  to  Captain  Clarke's  house. 
We  are  holding  a  meeting  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty." 

It  was  all  very  well  to  try  to  get  their  lessons  that 
night;  but  every  time  John  started  to  solve  the 
problem  which  Master  Rowland  had  given  him,  his 
thoughts  would  wander  to  the  "minute-men"  and 
the  "Sons  of  Liberty."  Ah,  if  he  only  had  a  gun 
like  father's!  Wait  a  minute!  There  was  one  in 
the  garret  which  Neighbor  Dawes  had  left  when  he 
started  for  Philadelphia  a  week  or  so  back.  "Just 
for  safety,  I  think  I'll  get  that  gun,  for  I  might  have 
to  protect  Betty,"  thought  John,  making  up  all  sorts 
of  reasons  to  soothe  his  conscience,  for  he  well  knew 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE  165 

that  neither  mother  nor  father  would  allow  him  to 
handle  a  gun  unless  father  were  near  him.  However, 
he  crept  upstairs  while  mother  was  helping  Betty 
with  her  spelling,  and  had  deposited  it  safely  in  his 
little  room  next  to  Betty's  before  he  was  called. 

Bedtime  came  all  too  soon  that  night,  for  they 
wanted  to  wait  up  until  father  came  home  and  hear 
what  news  he  might  have,  but  mother  was  firm,  and 
Betty  and  John  were  soon  tucked  cosily  in  their  high 
old-fashioned  beds,  and  mother  had  snuffed  out  the 
candle-light,  although  she  left  their  doors  open. 

"John!"  whispered  Betty,  "has  Paul  Revere  any 
little  girls?" 

"Um-m,  lots  of  'em  an'  boys  too,"  returned  John, 
almost  asleep,  but  remembering  to  feel  once  more  of 
the  gun  standing  by  his  bedside. 

Little  Betty  did  not  fall  asleep  so  easily;  over  and 
over  in  her  active  little  mind  did  she  hear  the  con- 
versation among  the  boys  and  girls  at  school  about 
"minute-men"  and  "King  George"  and  "war"  and 
it  was  not  until  she  heard  her  father's  voice  that  she 
fell  asleep. 

It  seemed  to  John  that  he  had  slept  a  long  time, 
when  suddenly  something  awakened  him  and  he  sat 
straight  up  in  bed.  There  it  was  again,  that  strange 


166  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE 

fci 

noise:  what  could  it  be?  "One,  two,  three,  four,  five, 
six,  seven,  eight,  nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve!"  just  then 
sounded  the  old  grandfather's  clock  on  the  stairs, 
and  in  spite  of  his  twelve  sturdy  years  John  shivered 
a  bit  and  started  to  pull  the  bed-clothes  over  his 
head,  for  all  sorts  of  things  might  happen  at  the 


Courtesy  of  the  Essex  Institute. 

BEDROOM  IN  ESSEX  INSTITUTE,  SALEM,  MASS. 

No  doubt  Betty  had  a  room  like  this  with  the  curtained  bed,  the  ladder-back 
chair,  the  big  fireplace,  and  the  candles  on  the  little  stand. 

stroke  of  twelve,  you  know.  But  just  then  he  heard 
it  again,  through  the  stillness  of  the  April  night. 
Clot-clot-clot-clot!  Why  it  sounded  for  all  the  world 
like  a  horse  galloping  at  full  speed!  Who  could  it 
be?  A  runaway  horse?  John  jumped  out  of  bed, 
and  poked  his  head  out  of  the  window  which  looked 
down  on  the  village  street.  Clot-clot,  clot-clot !  It 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE  167 

was  coming  nearer  now  although  he  could  see  nothing. 
Hark!  Was  that  someone  shouting?  From  far  off 
in  the  distance  he  could  hear  a  faint  shout  but  not 
a  word  could  he  make  out.  Nearer  and  nearer  came 
the  hurrying  hoof-beats,  and  more  and  more  distinct 
the  shout.  Ugh!  It  was  cold  standing  in  the  night 
air,  and  the  sound  of  the  fast  coming  horse  and  the 
strange  cry  borne  in  to  him  through  the  stillness 
made  him  feel  rather  queer  and  uneasy.  Hark!  what 
was  that?  Did  he  not  hear  the  word  "British"? 
Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  galloping  horse,  and  yes, 
far  off  in  the  distance  he  could  hear  bells  ringing,  and 
he  thought  he  heard  the  report  of  guns.  Suddenly 
John  heard  faintly  but  distinctly  the  words:  "The 
British  are  coming!  Hurry!  The  Regulars  are  out!" 

It  was  war!  war!  thought  John,  just  what  they  had 
been  talking  about  the  day  before. 

"Father!  Mother!"  he  cried,  as  he  seized  the  old 
gun  which  he  had  placed  near  his  bed  little  dreaming 
what  was  going  to  happen.  "Father!  Wake  up! 
The  red-coats  are  coming!  Father!" 

By  this  time  the  hoof-beats  were  near  and  loud, 
and  clear  and  distinct  on  the  night  air  was  heard  the 
shout,  "The  British  are  coming!  Hurry!  The  Regu- 
lars are  out!" 


168  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE       fc 

No  need  to  waken  father  for  he  was  already  down 
stairs,  and  mother  too,  with  white  face,  but  strong 


Courtesy  of  the  Detroit  Publishing  Company. 

PAUL  REVERE'S  RIDE 

By  Reid;  in  the  Boston  State  House. 

Down  the  village  street  he  galloped  awakening  the  countryside  that  they  might 
defend  their  homes  and  their  country. 

and  calm,  and  helping  father  into  his  coat  and  hand- 
ing him  his  gun. 

On    and    on    the    good    horse    galloped,    his    rider 
shouting    his    message    of    warning,    "Hurry!      The 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE  169 

British  are  on  the  way!"  The  shouts  of  people  could 
be  heard,  some  of  them  peering  from  their  windows, 
rubbing  their  sleepy  eyes,  but  most  of  them  running 
out  of  their  houses,  ready  to  give  their  all  for  the 
sake  of  "Liberty." 

"May  I  go  too,  father?"  asked  John  excitedly,  as 
he  followed  his  father  to  the  door,  still  keeping  tight 
hold  of  his  gun. 

"No,  John,"  answered  father,  "your  place  is  here 
to  look  out  for  your  mother  and  Betty,"  stooping  to 
kiss  the  little  girl  who  stood  .silent  and  wide-eyed,  one 
hand  tightly  grasping  a  fold  of  mother's  skirt.  So 
John  stood  guard  over  his  mother  and  sister,  holding 
firmly  in  both  hands  the  old  gun  which  was  almost 
as  big  as  he. 

Soon  they  heard  the  tramp  of  men's  feet  and  knew 
that  the  minute-men  were  assembled  and  ready  to 
fight,  if  need  be,  and  now  they  went  marching  down 
the  road.  The  ringing  of  the  bells  continued,  and 
the  report  of  the  alarm  guns  in  the  neighboring  vil- 
lages, while  Mistress  Prescott,  with  her  arms  around 
her  boy  and  girl,  stood  looking  from  the  window, 
listening  to  the  tramp  of  feet,  the  bells,  the  guns  and 
the  shouting  of  the  awakened  country-side,  and 
praying  that  her  husband  and  other  women's  hus- 


170  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE      fc 

bands  and  other  children's  fathers  might  come  safely 
home. 

"Who  was  the  man  who  came  riding  by,  mother?" 
asked  little  Betty  in  a  hushed  voice. 

"I  know,"  answered  John  eagerly,  before  his  mother 
could  reply.  "It  was  Paul  Revere  of  Boston!  I  heard 
father  say  so!  Isn't  he  the  bravest  man,  mother?" 

"Paul  Revere  has  been  of  great  service  to  all  his 
country  people  this  night,  and  is  indeed  a  brave 
man,"  answered  his  mother. 

On  and  on  was  Paul  Revere  riding  on  his  galloping 
steed,  towards  Lexington.  Our  poet,  Longfellow,  has 
very  vividly  told  us  about  his  daring  ride. 

"He  said  to  his  friend,  'If  the  British  march 
By  land  or  sea  from  the  town  to-night , 
Hang  a  lantern  aloft  in  the  belfry  arch 
Of  the  North  Church  tower  as  a  signal  light, — 
One,  if  by  land,  and  two,  if  by  sea; 
And  I  on  the  opposite  shore  will  be, 
Ready  to  ride  and  spread  the  alarm 
Through  every  Middlesex  village  and  farm, 
For  the  country  folk  to  be  up  and  to  arm.9 
Then  he  said  'Good  night9  and  with  muffled  oar 
Silently  rowed  to  the  Charlestown  shore; 

Meanwhile,  impatient  to  mount  and  ride, 
Booted  and  spurred,  with  a  heavy  stride 


IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE  171 

On  the  opposite  shore  walked  Paul  Revere, 

Now  he  patted  his  horse's  side, 

Now  gazed  at  the  landscape  far  and  near. 

Then,  impetuous,  stamped  the  earth, 

And  turned  and  tightened  his  saddle-girth; 

But  mostly  he  watched  with  eager  search 

The  belfry  tower  of  the  Old  North  Church, 

As  it  rose  above  the  graves  on  the  hill, 

Lonely  and  spectral  and  sombre  and  still. 

And  lo!  as  he  looks  on  the  belfry9 s  height 

A  glimmer,  and  then  a  gleam  of  light! 

He  springs  to  the  saddle,  the  bridle  he  turns, 

But  lingers  and  gazes,  till  full  on  his  sight 

A  second  lamp  in  the  belfry  burns! 

A  hurry  of  hoofs  in  a  village  street, 

A  shape  in  the  moonlight,  a  bulk  in  the  dark, 

And  beneath,  from  the  pebbles,  in  passing,  a  spark 

Struck  out  by  a  steed  flying  fearless  and  fleet: 

That  was  all!    And  yet,  through  the  gloom  and  the  light. 

The  fate  of  a  nation  was  riding  that  night; 

And  the  spark  struck  out  by  that  steed,  in  his  flight, 

Kindled  the  land  into  flame  with  its  heat. 

It  was  twelve  by  the  village  clock 

When  he  crossed  the  bridge  into  Medford  town. 

He  heard  the  crowing  of  the  cock, 

And  the  barking  of  the  farmer's  dog, 

And  felt  the  damp  of  the  river  fog 

That  rises  after  the  sun  goes  down. 


172  IN  THE  TIME  OF  PAUL  REVERE 

You  know  the  rest,  in  the,  books  you've  read, 

How  the  British  Regulars  fired  and  fled,— 

How  the  farmers  gave  them  ball  for  ball, 

From  behind  each  fence  and  farmyard  wall; 

Chasing  the  red-coats  down  the  lane, 

Then  crossing  the  fields  to  emerge  again 

Under  the  trees  at  the  turn  of  the  road, 

And  only  pausing  to  fire  and  load. 

So  through  the  night  rode  Paul  Revere! 

And  so  through  the  night  went  his  cry  of  alarm 

To  every  Middlesex  village  and  farm,— 

A  cry  of  defiance  and  not  of  fear! 

A  voice  in  the  darkness,  a  knock  at  the  door, 

And  a  word  that  shall  echo  forevermore! 

For  borne  on  the  night-wind  of  the  Past 

Through  all  our  history  to  the  last, 

In  the  hour  of  darkness  and  peril  and  needy 

The  people  will  waken  and  listen  to  hear 

The  hurrying  hoof-beats  of  that  steed, 

And  the  midnight  message  of  Paul  Revere" 


ABOUT  STORY  HOURS 

TELL  me  one  of  your  own  stories,  Mother,"  I 
used  always  to  ask,  for  nothing  pleased  me 
more  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  than*  to  hear 
one  of  my  mother's  "made-up"  stories  in  which 
little  people  worked  and  danced  and  frolicked,  and 
became  real  companions:  often  my  father  was  called 
upon,  too,  and  the  story  hour  was  looked  forward  to 
each  night.  So  with  every  one  of  us,  our  mothers 
and  fathers  were  our  first  story-tellers,  then  our 
teachers,  •  for  it  is  only  in  recent  years  that  story- 
telling as  a  profession  has  regained  much  of  the 
dignity  and  popularity  of  the  olden  times  when 
story-tellers  were  the  chief  entertainers  of  kings.  It 
is  significant  of  the  unique  value  of  story-telling  that 
even  to-day  with  the  many  different  ways  of  getting 
stories — from  the  moving  pictures,  theaters,  and 
books — that  the  story  hour  is  not  only  revived  but 
that  it  is  more  and  more  becoming  one  of  the  most 
effective  methods  of  education;  for  it  is  the  most 
human,  concrete,  and  vivid  way  of  reaching  and 
teaching  the  children:  and  not  only  the  real  children 

173 


174  ABOUT  STORY  HOURS 

IK 

enjoy  the  story  hours,  but  grown-up  children  as  well. 
The  people  of  long  ago  become  real  and  vivid,  the 
stories  correlate  with  the  school  studies  of  the  chil- 
dren and  their  own  experiences  and  become  not  mere 
words,  illustrated,  but  mean  something  to  them 
personally.  Primarily  they  bring  happiness  but  at 
the  same  time  they  teach  in  a  delightful  way;  to 
quote  from  Sir  Philip  Sydney's  "Defense  of  Poesie," — 
"even  as  the  child  is  often  brought  to  take  most 
wholesome  things  by  hiding  them  in  such  other  as 
have  a  pleasant  taste." 

There  can  be  no  barrier  between  the  story-teller 
and  the  audience,  for  just  as  the  story-teller  of  old 
was  a  part  of  the  fireside  group,  so  the  story-teller 
of  to-day  belongs  to  her  audience  and  is  their  friend. 
She  impersonates  the  characters  in  the  story  but  she 
is  always  essentially  herself,  and  upon  the  personality 
of  the  story-teller  and  her  contact  with  not  only  the 
children  but  their  families  and  teachers,  depends  a 
great  part  of  the  success  of  the  story  hour. 

Story  hours  in  Museums  have  a  special  value  in 
that  there  is  so  much  illustrative  material  to  make 
the  stories  vivid.  Art  museums,  as  a  whole,  no 
longer  exist  just  for  the  grown-up  student  and  re- 
search worker:  they  are  no  longer  merely  a  store- 


ABOUT  STORY  HOURS  175 

house  of  treasures,  but  they  exert  a  vital  influence 
on  the  lives  of  those  who  come,  especially  the  children. 
The  story  hours  bring  delight  to  the  children  and 
also,  through  the  study  of  the  lives  of  great  painters 
and  sculptors,  knights,  kings,  and  queens,  and  the 
arts  of  various  peoples,  strengthen  ambitions  and 
create  ideals.  The  boys  and  the  girls,  and  the  grown 
people  too,  through  the  story  hours,  the  illustrative 
slides,  and  the  trips  to  see  the  real  objects  in  the 
galleries  bearing  on  the  stories,  learn  how  to  see  and 
enjoy  beauty  of  workmanship,  line,  form,  and  color: 
and  having  seen  it  in  the  Museum  they  will  see  it 
elsewhere — out-of-doors,  and  in  their  homes.  This 
is  true  of  the  grown  people,  but  especially  true  of  the 
children,  for  as  children  they  are  pliable,  easily  in- 
fluenced, and  just  as  ready — even  those  who  have 
had  the  least  advantages — to  respond  to  the  good 
and  beautiful  as  to  the  bad  and  unlovely.  Many 
of  the  children  have  become  acquainted  with  the 
Museum  through  the  story  hours  for  the  first  time. 
"Is  it  on  Thoird  Avenoo?"  they  often  ask,  when  I  go 
into  a  distant  school.  Then,  when  they  do  come, 
they  draw  deep  breaths  of  delight  and  exclaim  in 
tones  of  wonder,  "O-o-h!  It's  just  like  a  Fairy  Pal- 
ace!" A  little  later,  when  they  have  become  steady 


176 


ABOUT  STORY  HOURS 


visitors  at  the  story  hours,  the  Children's  Hours  and 
in  classes  from  the  schools,  they  say,  "I'd  rather 
come  here  any  day  than  go  to  the  movies,  and  my 
mother,  she  says  she  likes  to  have  me  come  'cause  I 
learn  somethin'."  It  is  often  that  the  mothers,  fathers 
and  teachers  come  with  the  children,  and  many  times 
I  have  heard  a  mother  say,  "If  only  I  could  have  found 
out  how  to  enjoy  these  things  when  I  was  a  child." 

The  biggest  thing  of  all  is  that  the  story  hours  not 
only  bring  happiness  but  they  help  towards  the  en- 
joyment of  life,  the  ability  to  see,  the  will  to  do,  the 
making  of  better  men  and  women,  more  able  teachers, 
and  the  training  towards  citizenship.  A  f  C 

NEW  YORK,  July  1,  1919. 


Courtesy  of  the  Jacobs  Publishing  Company. 

LITTLE  COLONIAL  CHILDREN. 


—BERKELEY 


7  DAY  USE 

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EDUCATION  -  PSYCHOLOGY 
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